


A Boy Like That Will Give You Sorrow (The Lions and Lambs Remix)

by A (mumblemutter), cm (mumblemutter)



Category: Twilight (Movies), Underworld (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - High School, Big Bang Challenge, Community: xmenbigbang, Family, M/M, PTSD, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-04
Updated: 2011-12-04
Packaged: 2017-10-26 13:09:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 29,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/283510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mumblemutter/pseuds/A, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mumblemutter/pseuds/cm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Charles is 200 years old and Erik is Bella, Jacob and a Shark all at the same time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You're not from around here, are you.

**Author's Note:**

> Marginally more notes over at [DW](http://mumblemutter.dreamwidth.org/76285.html) or [LJ](http://mumblemutter.livejournal.com/994167.html). Soundtrack and bonus songs can be found on [DW](http://mumblemutter.dreamwidth.org/76341.html) or [LJ](http://mumblemutter.livejournal.com/994462.html) as well.

The wolves usually sit outside, while the vampires huddle in the cafeteria, shielding themselves as far away as possible from the sun. So it's a surprise when the wolf, after he takes a tray, grabs a seat next to the vending machines. Sean's the first to notice him, next to Charles. "What's he doing alone," he mutters to Alex, who raises a brow in Charles' direction.

Charles shrugs, grateful that no-one shares his chemistry class to have witnessed his freak out. "We were told there would be a newcomer to the pack. Council approved it, remember."

"No," Emma cuts in, and even from behind her dark sunglasses her haughty glare radiates in his direction. Emma has somehow mastered the art of projecting disdain while hidden under glasses half the size of her face. "You approved it. The council goes along because you scare them. And I got outvoted, as usual."

"Don't be a sore loser, Emma. I didn't see the harm in adding another member to an already diminished pack. The council merely saw my reasoning. It has nothing to do with fear."

Emma snorts. She soon turns her attention the wolf's way, though. Erik, Charles recalls the teacher introducing him as. Erik Lehnsherr.

"He smells like dog."

"Yes, but different, " Charles says distractedly. "One of the Eastern lines, perhaps. I'm surprised he's allowed here, aren't the Northerners supremely protective of their territories."

Emma shrugs. "All the wolves are protective of their territories. But they did adopt that redheaded brute, whatever his name is. It's besides the point. He smells like _dog._ "

"Yes," Charles replies, "I heard you the first time, dear," and almost misses Emma's dramatic eye-roll as the wolf looks up, stares straight at him.

"Are you quite all right, Charles," Raven asks, having no doubt missed the entire conversation.

"No, I'm fine. I might just need some air." He stands up abruptly and almost runs out of the cafeteria.

-

When Erik comes home from school Janice is in the kitchen, drying dishes. She asks brightly, "So how was your first day?"

Erik grunts at first, but then he makes himself pause and smiles. "It was okay. I didn't see any wolves, but -"

"But?"

"Nothing," he says. "It was fine."

Janice puts a plate down and turns towards him, leaning against the sink. "I got permission before we came here, Erik. You don't have to worry."

"Okay."

"If you encounter any problems, let me know." She nods her head, and Erik takes it as his cue that he's free to make his escape. "Dinner's at six," she calls to him as he bounds up the stairs to his bedroom.

Janice insists that they eat dinner at the table like a normal family. Erik used to tell her he would rather hunt for his dinner, but she only frowned and put food onto his plate. _Cooked_ food. "It's cooked," he said dubiously, the first time, and her face shifted in a way he couldn't understand.

"You're both human and wolf, Erik. Your body will accept the cooked meat in this form. You might even learn to enjoy it." _You don't shift back until I tell you to, do you understand,_ his fingers at his throat as a shadow of a hand wrapped around it.

Janice looked away, and Erik picked up the fork and knife tentatively. "Like this?"

"Like this," she said, and followed suit, showed him.

But it came back, soon enough. He'd only forgotten for a while, like so many other things. Even now, Erik would still rather the taste of raw meat, hot blood dripping down his throat, but the cooked food isn't so bad anymore. He comes down to sit at the dining table at exactly six pm; Janice pours him a ladle of stew and it doesn't even smell entirely disgusting.

A few bites later, he clears his throat. "So about the, um - I was wondering. Are there any vampires in school?"

Janice sighs. "Yes, apparently there are. Not all of them are actual teenagers - it's complicated." She plops her spoon back down into the bowl. "Did _they_ give you trouble?"

"No," Erik says. "Why do you think anyone even noticed me today."

"Because it used to be my high school too. And this town is nothing but vampires and wolves. So trust me, someone noticed."

Vampires. The boy that ran out, the one with the too pale skin and the strange scent, surely -

"Eat your food," Janice murmurs. "And don't worry so much about the vampires. Just stay away from them and everything will be fine."

"I'm not worried."

"I'm worried. Don't argue with them. If they taunt you, just walk on."

"Mhm," Erik replies, chasing an elusive piece of meat with his fork.

"I'm serious, Erik. I feel as if I should have prepared you more." When Erik looks up she quirks her lip at him. "But I've been away for so long I've almost forgotten what it's like."

"I'm fine," Erik tells her in all seriousness. "All is good."

He only drops his gaze when she flinches, tells him once again, "Finish your food."

-

The next day, Charles drinks too much blood in the morning and then again before chemistry, sates himself so he's not hungry in the slightest. Still, when he catches sight of Erik, standing in front of the Bunsen burner as if his mere focus would be able to light it, Charles can't help but falter in his step. Erik glances up, spots him, then sweeps his lashes downwards once again.

"Mr. Xavier, any time now," the teacher says.

Erik makes room for him at the table without once looking up, and Charles can't stop sneaking glances at him. He's so thin, for a wolf. All the wolves that live here are ruddy cheeked and strongly built. In contrast, Erik looks as if Charles could lay a finger on him and he'd break into pieces, crumple under his hands like so much paper. Erik chooses that moment to glance up, but when he makes eye contact with Charles he lowers his gaze almost immediately.

Charles forces himself to stand next to him, to stop himself from inhaling that odd, alluring scent. "I'm Charles," he says, with unnatural cheerfulness. "Charles Xavier. Erik, right?"

"Yes, Erik." He slides his gaze over to Charles, finally. "Were you not well yesterday?"

"Oh. Yes, that. Stomach flu, it's been going around I'm told."

"But you're a -" His eyes narrow. "I thought you were a -"

Charles tries for a reassuring smile. "I think we should just move on to the experiment, shall we? Put the past behind us and all that?"

Erik only shrugs. "All right." He pauses, and as he shifts slightly closer to get a beaker from the rack the scent hits Charles once again and he reels back. "You're very strange," Erik mutters.

Perhaps the obvious solution then would be to just ask for a new chemistry partner. Instead, Charles picks up a pen and says, "So where do we start."

-

There's a boy, another wolf, leaning against his locker when Erik makes his way through the throngs of students between classes. "Uh, hi," Erik says. The boy's eyes slide down, then upwards slowly. "Sorry, I need to get my books."

"They told me you were illiterate," the boy says. His hair is the darkest shade of black Erik has ever seen. "Couldn't speak at all." Erik shuffles his feet, desperate to get at his locker before he does something Janice will disapprove of.

"Oh god, don't mind Janos," another boy says, the other scent of wolf Erik's been sniffing. _Older redder calmer._ He loops an arm around Janos' shoulders as Janos growls and half-heartedly shoves at him. "His mother was a halfbreed bitch that mated with a hyena."

"Fuck you," Janos says. The other boy only laughs.

"Welcome to Newport, Erik. I'm Az. We haven't had new blood here in a while."

"Not Eastern blood," Janos mutters, but he's not really scowling anymore.

"I'm not Eastern," Erik says. The air turns harsh. Az's smile fades slightly.

"Whatever. You're family now regardless." He pulls Janos away so Erik can get at his locker, can stick his head in so he can calm himself.

"Listen," Az calls, as he's dragging Janos off in the opposite direction. "Sit with us during lunch, okay. We're usually outside, near the quad." Erik doesn't respond, and after a while their scent gets lost amongst the crowd.

At lunchtime, Erik makes his way outside, where he stands uncertainly until he's spotted by Az who waves him over. There's another wolf sitting with him and Janos, a tiny she-wolf with a shock of black hair down to her shoulders. Erik plops himself down onto the grass next to her, sniffs and reels back, stunned and shaken.

"Did he just try to - on no, honey child, you didn't." The girl shakes her head in a show of massive disappointment. Erik shifts slowly away from her as both boys start laughing.

"So, not illiterate but uncivilized," Janos says, clapping him on the knees. Erik tries not to start at the sudden contact. _Touch is not punishment. Sometimes touch is good._ "Her name's Angel, by the way," Janos continues. "If you're going to try to mate with her at first sight you might as well know her name."

"I wasn't," Erik says, his fists clenched against his thighs. "I'm sorry," he tells her, and Angel laughs, delightful and bright.

"I like him," she says. "He can stay." Her foot lands on Janos' belly. Janos clutches it and makes a great display of being in pain. "You on the other hand are a lout." He reaches out to grab her foot and she squeals, yells, "Az, save me."

They're not paying attention to him anymore, so Erik relaxes. He casts his eyes about the quad, sniffing out somebody before he even realizes who it is. Not outside, but inside, and he lets his gaze wander upwards to the brick walls of the cafeteria and a scent that comes and goes as the door opens and shuts for hungry students to stream through. Charles Xavier the vampire and all his vampire friends. They must be older than they look, but Erik can't imagine by how much. Surely no-one could bear to live beyond even the one lifetime, let alone several.

Sebastian liked to tell him wolves lived long, but not long enough. "Too many weaknesses as a species," he said, as his hand trailed over Erik's trembling flank. "That has to change."

Someone shakes him, "Hey Erik man, you okay?"

"What," Erik asks.

"Nothing, you just went super pale that's all. Looked like a fang for a moment there." Angel exchanges a look with Az. "Listen, were going hunting this weekend. You'll join us, okay?"

"Maybe," Erik says. "I'll ask Janice." She wouldn't say yes, surely, but oh.

"I'll text you the time and place," Janos says. "Come if you can. It's just us, no old folks."

"Certainly," Janice says, when Erik broaches the subject over dinner.

"I thought I wasn't supposed to."

"No, I didn't mean it that way," Janice sighs and squeezes his arm. Erik flinches. "Sorry." She shakes herself visibly and continues, "You just need to know when the right time is. Hunting with the pack - that's good, that's normal."

Erik doesn't understand what she means, but he doesn't care. He gets to shift. He gets to run and hunt and feel the ground underneath his paws. "Don't choke on your food," Janice murmurs fondly. "Your homework will still be there when you're done." Erik frowns, and slows down almost immediately.

-

In between classes Charles catches Erik ducking into a bathroom, and follows suit. Erik looks up from washing his hands and starts, but he stands his ground when Charles moves closer. "Hello, Erik. Terribly long day, isn't it?" Erik nods his head and shoves his hands into his pockets. "What's your next class?"

"Calculus."

Charles makes a face. "I've always hated it."

"Why?" Erik scratches his chin. "Do you keep failing?"

"No, I was always very good at math." Charles shifts nearer and Erik steps back, almost stumbling over his feet. "Oh, right," he says, and moves to the far side of the room. "Better?" He pauses. "Do you - do you want to switch lab partners? I could arrange for it if it's too much for you."

"If that's what you want."

"Right, okay." Charles tilts his head. "That's settled then. I'll talk to someone tomorrow."

Erik says, as Charles is turning to go, "You don't smell bad to me."

Charles stops and glances back. "Like a rotting corpse, is what I've heard most often." He smiles. "We've had centuries to insult one another. I'm certain your new friends will key you in to the more creative ones soon enough."

Erik just tugs his backpack higher up on his shoulder and flushes. "I don't," he says, but then he leans forward and sniffs, and Charles stills but he doesn't move away. "Moss," Erik says finally. The door opens and Charles pushes it back shut, ignoring the muffled shouts from the other side. "I - I think he wants to get in."

"He can wait."

"You should let him in. I have class."

"Of course," Charles says. He steps away to allow the door to open.

"You stupid fuck-" the kid who lurches in says, until he sees Charles. "Uh, right," he stumbles over his words and pales.

Charles says, "As you were," and dismisses him as he disappears hastily into a stall. "Erik. I'll see you around."

"You don't have to."

"What?"

"You don't have to talk to someone to switch classes with me. I mean, if it's okay with you. I don't mind."

"Right. Then I suppose I'll see you in class."

-

The pack are chasing each other playfully when Erik arrives. "I'm late," he says apologetically. The small golden brown wolf breaks away from them and pads towards him, nips at Erik's heels. _Come on_. Erik tears off his clothes and shifts as Angel turns back around, chased by large and jet black, Janos. Az a dark red, but still family. Erik knows this. Sebastian liked to talk about family, and genetics. "We separate ourselves and tear each other to pieces for territory, and for what." His hand on Erik's nape. "Genetically we're almost identical. Even you, my dear boy, as special as you are."

Erik's run before, with Janice, but in the cities the woods always had an ending. Here there's just wide endless space and as his paws hit the ground and lift off, it's as if he can run forever. Janos is slightly ahead, Angel and Az flanking each side of Erik's. Erik throws his head back and howls, high and loud and delirious with joy, _freedom_ and _hunt_ and _family_ and they all follow suit. There's a sharp turn up ahead, Janos falls back to nudge at him with his nose but Erik snarls back and surges ahead, only pulling back all of his muscles right at the very edge.

The rest of the pack shift direction so they're parallel to the edge by the time they get near. Erik turns his head to them as they sprint away from him, about to join them when a scent catches his nose. _Stupid_ , the ground is rocks and it crumbles and Erik scrambles down with them, trying to get his footing back. A whine escapes from him as his body twists in air, but he shifts, sudden, and then he can grab onto the edge with his fingers, hug at the overhanging rock. Erik catches the scent again, and he almost falls when he turns his head to search for it, but an arm reaches down and grabs at his wrist. "Erik, what the hell." Janos hauls him up easily and Az grabs his shoulders when he staggers, all of them dropping to the safe ground in a pile.

"So, that was exciting," Angel says. Erik peers up at her shining face as she beams at him. "Way to give a girl a heart attack the first time you run with her."

Janos laughs hoarsely and pats Erik on the chest. "Fucking A," he says.

They return to where they left their clothes and Erik doesn't look at Angel the whole time for politeness' sake. Angel finds this funny, giggles and punches him on the shoulder when he closes his eyes.

"My car's parked nearby," Az says, dangling his keys from his fingers. "I could drop you home, Erik."

"No, it's okay. I'm near, I can walk."

"Not that near, but suit yourself." Az shrugs. They start walking away, but before that Angel gets on her toes and kisses him on the cheek, quick enough that he can't twitch away. "See you in school tomorrow," she whispers.

Erik makes sure they're gone before he undresses again and shifts so he can retrace his tracks. He bypasses the ravine and manages to find another way down, but no matter how hard he searches he can't catch the scent again. Must not be real. Except he _knows._

When Erik finally gives up and starts heading back, he's losing the moon and at some point he stops in the middle of a track and turns left, then right again, unsure which way is back. That's when he latches on to another scent, different this time. _Faint light pure_ , he hesitates briefly, then circles around in pursuit.

-

Only the pups hunt in this neck of the woods. Charles isn't foolish enough to wander around where the adults go, and as Emma tells him, he's foolish for even thinking the pups are harmless. They mostly tend to ignore his presence if they sniff him at all, so he's never too worried though.

"Why wander through the woods like an animal," Emma likes to ask.

"I enjoy the solitude," Charles tries to explain, but Emma just rolls her eyes, uninterested as usual in his answer.

"I hope you enjoy getting your throat ripped out as well."

"I think I can handle a few rambunctious pups, Emma."

Except now there's Erik, who seems intent on chasing down his scent. Alone, of all things. Charles drifts upwards through the woods, grateful that the sun is setting. There's not much cloud cover up here, not even in Newport. He can't see, but can hear Erik padding behind him, far enough that he must be tracking Charles by scent only and assuming that Charles doesn't know he's there. Some kind of a werewolf. Charles really should have a talk with Janice someday. After a while Charles tires of it and jumps up into a tree, settles down on a branch to wait.

He comes into view soon enough, a too thin brown wolf with mottled gray markings on his back and paws. He sniffs the ground as the trail ends before lifting his head, turning it left and right in search of a continuing scent. "I'm up here," Charles calls. He jumps down easily and lands directly in front of Erik, who starts and scrambles back, growling furiously before he seems to realize it's Charles. He's still skittish as Charles holds out a hand, but after a while he surges forward enough that Charles can run his fingers through soft pelt, scratch him behind his ears.

It is, quite possibly, the most reckless thing he's done in his life, save the time when his mother died and he'd gone on a rage-fueled rampage throughout a London filled with witches and vampire hunters. Erik doesn't seem to realize the trust Charles is putting in him, exposing his throat like this. Possibly he doesn't know. No, of course he doesn't. Erik tentatively leans into Charles' touch, and Charles swallows back a laugh. It feels perilously close to hysteria.


	2. Interlude

The first voice he heard, that endless night when Sebastian hadn't come for him, _three moons, never three moons_ , and everything was just gnawing hunger and pain until the door snapped open and Erik surged back back back into the corner, bowed his head down -

"It's a pup," the voice said, and it was flat with so much rage Erik whimpered and pressed his head further down into the floor. Hands on the side of his jowls, gentle. "Get this silver off him, now." More hands, pulling at him. "It's okay, boy. You're going to be okay." Not understanding, and when even more hands started to lift him up, he struggled and snapped his teeth, snarling into thin air. "Get the sedatives," the same voice commanded, and the last thing he heard before pain blossomed in his neck and everything went black was, "Sebastian, what have you done."

The first thing Janice told him after taking him in was: No sleeping in wolf form. _Can't can't can't._ All he would do back then was snarl at her, pawing at the floor and retreating back as she crossed her arms, refused to shift to meet him. He shifted back eventually, still snarling at her. She only said, "Use your words, Erik. You need to remember your words." She sunk to her knees and wrapped her hand around the back of his neck. He pulled away _Don't touch, pain, heel, good dog._ Erik whimpered, and she lifted him up and carried him to the bed. Deposited him into it, under the covers. Erik threw them off, angry at the restriction, but she only pulled them up again, tucked them under his chin. "Sleep," she said. "You sleep."

Janice was the new alpha dog, she even smelled like Sebastian, _don't be disobedient_ , but for months afterwards he'd stare out the window at night and howl quietly under his breath, at the moon.

It got easier, but then Erik still didn't see the point. He would drag the covers down onto the floor and toss the pillow after them: next to the bed was okay, underneath it was not. It didn't seem any less arbitrary than it used to, back in the beginning, but Janice said he was making progress, so he didn't argue.

 


	3. You know, my mother used to say: A cold heart is a dead heart.

They used to have meetings in clandestine locations, all gloomy seriousness, but now the owner of the local bar & grill closes it down at the end of the month for the gatherings. Emma likes to lament over the death of tradition, but Charles prefers it this way. At least there's free flow of food and drink. Especially drink. Raven calls him a borderline alcoholic, but that's patently untrue. Vampires aren't capable of forming human addictions, surely.

Still, after his fifth glass of beer he's being shot disapproving glances by his sister. Charles tries to convey, "Do you blame me? If I have to listen to Jean drone on about the importance of building conservation I need to do it drunk," by looking as miserable as he possibly can. Raven shoots him back her own look, one that clearly says, "If I have to suffer through this sober so do you." Charles presses his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose as Jean finally peters out, shooting a malevolent glare in Charles' direction as she does so.

Not everyone approves of the way Charles chooses to run things. He doesn't have a problem with that; as far back as he can remember all that both of their species seemed to care about was the conservation of relics that should have been torn down years ago and the purity of the bloodline. Charles is interested in none of it, which hasn't made him exactly popular.

One of the elder wolves clears her throat. "I'd like to welcome Janice back into the pack. Most of you already know who she is," Maria says. "Born and bred as she was." There's a murmur of mostly friendly greeting. Janice nods her head in response. "She also brings with her some welcome young blood."

"Yes," Charles says, halting in his attempt to build a tower out of beer coasters. "About that. Where exactly is the young Erik from?"

"He didn't tell me you'd met." Janice says, her voice on the verge of icy.

"You should answer his question," Emma says.

"We're not obliged," is the instant response, now entirely devoid of warmth. Good to see then that Janice hasn't changed one whit in the three decades since Charles saw her last.

He places his hand lightly on Emma's hand, says as politely as he can, "Merely curious. It's hardly important. Shall we move on then."

When the meeting finally disassembles, Charles wanders over to the buffet table. Janice is standing in front of a heated tray, expression of confusion on her face. "Crab meat," she mutters. "I don't get it."

"It's a delicacy, or so I'm told."

"For who exactly?" She laughs and shakes her head. "I guess some things do change after all."

"Well I wouldn't have imagined a pup such as Erik be welcomed into the pack half a century ago."

"Our numbers are dwindling," Janice says. "Besides, he's the last of his kind. Could hardly abandon him, could we."

"Is he," Charles asks, leaning imperceptibly closer. Janice doesn't respond, just puts a piece of crab leg gingerly onto her plate and walks off. Damnable woman.

-

Janice comes back from the meeting tired and cranky, and Erik pretends he's studying as she stomps around the kitchen, opening and shutting the fridge door twice without getting anything from it. At some point she stops and turns to Erik. "You go to that school with that vampire, right. Charles?"

"Yeah," Erik says, his throat dry. "We have chemistry together."

"Do you?" She drifts closer towards him. "Do you speak to him at all?"

"He's my lab partner. We have to talk."

"But outside of that?"

"No, we don't. He's a vampire." Erik pauses, bites his lip. "We're not supposed to? I guess we're not supposed to. I won't. I promise."

"It's not you I'm concerned over, child."

"It's just one class," Erik says. Janice only seems more worried though, as if she can tell that he's lying, as if she can still smell Charles on him from two nights ago, _moss teeth blood_ , so Erik just fusses with his homework and doesn't look at her. "I'll stay away from him," he says finally. "And I'll tell you if he bothers me."

"Okay, good," Janice says, and she looks relieved. "I'll make you a cup of hot chocolate before I go to bed, will leave it in the microwave. Don't stay up too late."

-

Charles hasn't needed the services of a school library in decades, but Raven's decided she's going to be a good student this year, or perhaps just because her current obsession is at the top of his class, and now Charles is obliged to tutor her when she's shown little to no interest in studying in over a century.

"At least you did learn to read in all this time," Charles says, as Raven sighs over an essay.

"Was that meant to be supportive?"

"Well yes, yes it was." He pats her on the arm encouragingly, and she grins.

"You were actually a pretty decent tutor. I'm sorry I never paid more attention when you were trying to teach me about science," she says, fingerquoting the last part. "And the works of all those writers you convinced yourself were geniuses because you wanted to fuck them."

"They were," Charles mutters.

"Still unknown," Raven says, ignoring his scowl.

"No-one appreciated their -"

"I feel a lecture about the good old days of dysentery and bad dental hygiene coming on." She collapses backwards into her chair, her body limp and boneless. "Do go on, Charles."

"Just finish your homework," Charles says, flipping the page of his book and ignoring her.

Raven starts laughing, until the librarian goes, "Shush," and she settles back down into the essay.

The wolf shows up a half hour before closing. Charles catches his scent before he comes into view, sits up straight as he approaches the counter. He doesn't seem to notice Charles, instead he speaks quietly to the librarian and she nods her head, points him in the direction of the back area.

Erik disappears around the corner and emerges a few minutes later, book in hand. He still doesn't seem to notice Charles at all as he checks out the book, but his gaze is a little too studiously avoidant of where Charles is sitting. Charles stands up abruptly as Erik heads back out, says, "I'll be right back. Continue to pretend you care about any of this. It's a nice change."

Outside, Charles almost immediately regrets ever getting up, but just when he decides he will go back in is the moment when he spots Erik, standing next to the curb. Even worse, it's also the moment when Erik lifts his head and spots Charles. Erik nods, polite and distant, and Charles is next to him before he can even think about it. "Is someone coming to pick you up," he asks.

Erik shrugs. "I'm going to walk. It's not that far."

"Isn't it?"

"Through the woods it's fast."

"Yes, of course. I suppose I should head back in then."

"Okay." Erik doesn't seem to care one way or another, which is quite possibly why Charles steps into line with him when he heads in the direction of the overlying woods. It's not long before they're in a familiar place, the trees tall and foreboding above them.

Charles stops and waits until Erik turns to him expectantly. "What you've been doing," Charles begins, but Erik suddenly looks terrified, so Charles chooses his next words carefully. "What you did, Erik, are you even aware?"

"Aware of what," Erik asks, not quite defensively.

"Well for one thing that if you scent a vampire it's probably best to head in the opposite direction."

There's a hint of defiance in his eyes when he says, "Do you want me to leave? Maybe you should go back to the library."

"All right," Charles says, and pushes Erik backwards into the nearest tree. He starts, but makes no move to do anything but clutch at Charles' coat to steady himself. It's easy enough then, for Charles to lift his head up, lean in.

A werewolf bite will kill you, Charles has heard that his entire life, witnessed it enough to be aware that it is the ugliest of deaths their kind has to endure. A werewolf kiss - there is no lore on that. Charles shudders, and twists Erik in his arms, pulls him down to the ground.

Erik kisses him as if he's drowning, as if he's never been kissed or held or even touched before. Every part of him burns where Charles touches him, every moan or desperate sigh makes Charles want - need to drag him closer still, sink his teeth deep in. Erik opens his mouth, and Charles slides his tongue in, giddy with it, the taste and the touch and the smell, until Erik wrenches himself away, his breathing harsh and disconnected. His irises are huge, halfway to shifting, and when Charles puts a hand on his cheek he turns into it, nuzzles at his palm. "You're so beautiful," Charles says. He falls back onto the ground and lifts his eyes skywards. Erik puts his head tentatively against his shoulder and Charles can hear every single, minute beat of his heart as it thunders through his veins.

Two centuries old. This is _ridiculous._

-

Erik takes a shower the minute he comes home - speeds up the stairs and slams himself into the bathroom. Janice isn't even home, which he only figures out when he's scrubbed clean and he wanders downstairs. There's no-one there, and he finds a note stuck to the fridge:

_At work, dinner's in the oven. Back late. Love, J._

Erik pulls the roast out, but when he's carving a slice his phone vibrates. It's Angel, her voice chipper over the line. "Little birdie says Janice isn't home. We're coming over, right."

They bring a bottle of tequila along with them, Janos slams it down on the kitchen table and says, "I'll trade you for your meat."

"You just ate, you pig." She snatches the bottle away from him. "Besides, it's my bottle, and therefore not yours to trade."

Erik pushes the plate at Janos. "You can have it," he says feebly. "There's enough to go around."

Janos seems to have lost interest though, instead he's following Az into the living room and throwing himself onto the couch. The bottle's in Az's hands now, and he gulps at it before handing it over to Erik. "Careful," Angel says. "Janice will kill us if we get him drunk."

"I won't get drunk." He takes a sensitive sip and chokes almost immediately. "This is awful."

Janos pats him on the back sympathetically. "You get used to it. It makes you feel good. I promise."

A half hour later, Erik is slumped on the floor with his back pressed against the couch and agreeing entirely with everything Janos says. "I love you," he says to the bottle. Someone removes it gently away from him.

"I told you not to let him drink so much." Angel glares at Janos and Az both. "You're both dead."

"You're part of this too," Janos mutters, tugging churlishly at her jacket. He seems happy though. It's strange.

"Yeah, but I'm perfect. And you assholes are. You assholes."

Erik closes his eyes, and when he opens them again Az is saying, "Ma says I'm not allowed to date a human girl. So like, who the fuck am I supposed to go out with? I gotta wait until I go to college and then maybe I find a wolf there and maybe her pack doesn't have a vendetta against ours and that's a lot of fucking maybes, man."

"What about a boy," Erik says, jerking his head up. "I like -" Charles, but he doesn't say that out loud. No-one says anything for a while, Janos and Az just keep glancing at one another like they're waiting for the other to speak.

But then Angel's arm is around his shoulders, and she's whispering, "That's great, I like guys too. But then you're stuck with these two douchebags."

When Erik drifts back to sleep again they're both arguing over who gets to drink the last of the alcohol. "You're a selfish prick," is the last thing he hears as he buries his face in Angel's hair and her fingers dig into the back of his neck.

-

Charles is driving home from school, alone because Emma has decided she would like to be on the prom committee for some dreadful reason known only to her, when he spots a familiar figure walking along the side of the road. He pulls up, because it's only polite. Erik's already turning, leaning down into the window. He's not smiling, and Charles clears his throat. "Do you want a ride?"

Erik only shrugs, but asks, distantly cautious, "Where are you headed? Not where I'm going -"

"How will you know that if you don't tell me. If you'd rather walk though."

"I'd rather walk anywhere," Erik says, but when Charles can't help but mouth a disappointed _oh_ he adds, "But I want to talk to you more." Which is how they end up parking at the edge of the woods, in a deserted field that would be an excellent spot for teenagers who wanted to be alone. The road's closed though, and largely forgotten to all but those who were there when they built it.

"I've never been here before," Erik says, leaning out the window and gazing up at the endlessly tall trees.

"Most people haven't." They buried the dead here, back when it was still acceptable to kill. The scattered bones of both their species' victims. Charles moves in closer to the passenger side. He's unprepared to be forced back into his seat by a snarling, antagonized wolf.

"I'm sorry," Erik says, almost immediately, retracting his fist from Charles' t-shirt. "You shouldn't startle me. It's not polite." His body remains clenched, his eyes tracking Charles' movements. Charles adjusts himself and holds up his hands, palms outwards.

"I apologize," Charles says. "I'd like to put my hands down now if that's all right with you."

Erik nods, but then he says, "I want to kiss you. Can I kiss you?"

The yes is on his lips, he's mouthing it even, but finally he just says, "I should drive you home," in lieu of an answer, and ignores the disappointed look on Erik's face. "It's getting late, Janice will be worried."

"Okay," Erik says. He slumps back into his seat and when he closes his eyes, he looks so incredibly young Charles can't stand it. He throws the car viciously into gear and practically speeds the rest of the way back to Erik's home.

-

There's a bonfire the next week, and Erik isn't sure he'll be allowed to go, but Angel shows up one morning before school and asks Janice sweetly, and Janice says yes. "Just try not to get him too drunk, please."

"There's no alcohol at these things," Angel says, sounding affronted. "We're all minors."

"Right," Janice says, and shoos them both off.

There are too many people and the fire's too bright, and after a while even the pack are gone, Angel and Janos disappearing somewhere together and Az off in search for more beer. Erik doesn't mind much being alone, but he ends up drifting away from the heat, down to the lake where it's cooler and the breeze takes some of the scent of ash away.

"I never understand these."

Erik glances back as Charles ambles down the slope towards him, too light-footed and graceful on the rocky path to be fully human. "It's a full moon," Erik says, turning his head up to the sky. "I wish I were somewhere else."

"So why aren't you?"

"I don't know." He shrugs. "I was told we're doing this tonight." It's not as if he's going to hunt alone anyway. He was only alone when - he takes two steps back when fingers clutch at his elbow.

Charles lets him go and steps back. "I'm sorry," he says. "You seemed lost for a moment there."

Erik pulls the sleeves of his pullover down past his wrists. "You're always touching me."

"I like touching you." He puts his hand on Erik's elbow again, and this time Erik doesn't pull away. "Do you want me to stop."

"No, it's okay. Were you following me?"

"No, of course not." Even in the moonlight, his lips are blood red and his teeth are the whitest Erik has ever seen. "Perhaps a little." His eyes flick upwards, back towards the bonfire, everyone talking and laughing. "We should head back," he says.

"You can go. I think I'll stay here for a while."

"Do you swim," Charles asks abruptly.

Erik shakes his head no. Maybe. He doesn't remember. Wolves should be able to swim, so maybe.

"At some point half the kids end up in the lake. But it's early yet, no-one's drunk enough. We should be alone if we walk further down."

"How far," Erik asks. But Charles is already turning, and so in the end Erik just follows. By the time Charles stops Erik can only hear everyone if he focuses. "I don't have a -" he starts, and stops because Charles is pulling off his shirt. "Can you see? In the moonlight? Better than humans?"

Charles pauses in taking off his shoes and smiles brilliantly. "Yes. But I can close my eyes if you're shy."

"I'm not shy," Erik mutters, scowling. Just his scars - Charles is only looking expectantly at him though, so Erik tosses off his own shirt and slips off his sneakers. He's not sure about the jeans but Charles is, he's already folding them neatly next to his shirt. Erik just tugs his own jeans off and tosses them onto the ground. But Charles is averting his eyes, thankfully, and when Erik blinks he's in the water, gliding backwards as if he's still on solid ground.

Erik hesitates, but it's worse standing here naked, so he forces himself to wade in. The water's cold, "Ahhh," Erik says, burying his face in and then then lifting himself up so all of him gets wet at the same time. He shakes his head and Charles laughs, holds out his hands. "Come on, let's go in deeper. I promise to make sure you don't drown."

"I'm fine here," Erik says firmly. At least he can still feel the ground beneath his feet.

"All right," Charles says, agreeably enough. He still glides closer though, until Erik should be able to feel his breath on his cheek. But Charles doesn't breathe very often, just about as often as his heart beats, which isn't much at all.

"Do you want to kiss me, Erik," Charles asks, barely a whisper.

"I think you want to kiss me."

"That's true. But I thought perhaps I should ask."

"You don't have to ask," Erik says immediately.

"Oh." Charles puts his fingers on Erik's mouth. Erik presses his lips forward, and Charles looks surprised. He only pulls away though, and says cheerfully, "You'll have to come deeper then." When Erik doesn't move, Charles stretches out a hand once more. "Trust me. I've seen wolves - I'll show you how to float."

Erik thinks he will drown, once his feet stop feeling the ground beneath them, but in the end it's easy. He doesn't even need Charles, except when Charles wraps his body around him to hold him up Erik doesn't say that. Instead he just holds on and kisses him, again and again.

Charles pulls away abruptly and tells Erik, when he tries to drag him back, "This was a bad idea. You need to stay away from me." There's a strange look on his face; it makes Erik's hackles rise and he has to fight the urge to bare his teeth because - it's only Charles. Charles starts swimming back to the shore and Erik calls after him, "You're the one that's always following me."

Charles turns back only briefly, and he still has that look on his face, but it's more human now. "I know," he says quietly, and then he's gone.

Erik manages to swim back by himself, and collapses on the ground next to his pile of clothes, tired and irritated and mostly confused. The moon ignores him utterly when he lets out a frustrated howl that's mostly still human because he can't be bothered to stretch out his vocal chords to do it properly. Maybe the pack is right after all.


	4. Interlude

 

Raven was the first, and so far only person that Charles ever turned. She showed up at their doorstep one night, all of eight years old and starving to death. Both her parents dead, she told Charles over a bowl of hot soup. "You should be scared of me," Charles said, leaning over to pass her a piece of bread. She snatched at it eagerly and didn't notice how his eyes gleamed at the sight of her thin, blood-flush wrist.

"You don't seem scary at all, Mister," she said, when she was done mopping up the soup with what was left of the bread.

"I'm a strange man in an empty house," he told her sternly. "We are always scary." There had been a time in this house, with any young girl, it would have been true. Possibly even now. But she only lowered her lashes and stuck out her chin. Charles sighed. "I will wake the help to draw you a bath. You smell of filth."

He'd left her inside the bathroom with hot water and a bar of soap when Emma walked past him and stood outside the door. Her nose wrinkled. "What is that?"

"It's a child," Charles said.

She clapped her hands in delight. "Is is supper? Charles, and here I thought you'd turned into such a prude. Or not," she amended, when Charles tightened his lips. The door was opened before Charles could get out another word as Emma stuck her head in briefly. When she pulled back she said, "Scrawny little thing, isn't she."

"I've heard rumors they're not all fed a diet of potatoes and meat on the street, but don't take my word for it."

"A pet then," Emma put her finger to her lips thoughtfully as Charles rolled his eyes and pulled down on his vest impatiently. "You always were soft of heart."

When Raven turned sixteen, Emma held her face in between her hands, and Raven said, "Get away from -" but she stilled when Emma widened her eyes.

"Let her go," Charles said.

"She will never be this beautiful again, Charles. Her blood will never taste as sweet. She will never be this full of life."

"You describe her as you would a ripe fruit. She's hardly that." Raven did grow up rather lovelier than he'd expected, from the fragile lice-riddled child she was.

"You should marry her off then. There is no shortage of suitors."

"No."

"Then kill her before she ages and turns sour with it."

"No."

"Well, then I suppose there's only one option left." Emma smoothed down an errant golden curl with her index finger. "I wonder what it's like," she continued almost dreamily, "to be human. All that fragility and impermanence."

"I won't turn her," Charles said, knowing that he would. Knowing that he would regret it, possibly for a long time to come. Everything he loved about Raven, how full of stubborn, defiant life she was.

"You've never, have you."

Charles moved forward, drew Raven gently away from Emma's embrace. "No, but I suppose it shouldn't be that hard. You've done it."


	5. One thing about living in Santa Carla I never could stomach. All the damn vampires.

Moira comes into the house late morning as Charles is getting ready for school, still in her uniform and smelling faintly of blood.

"Missed you at the council meeting yesterday."

Moira frowns. "I was busy. There was a murder."

"Oh?" He rummages around in his backpack some more, until he finds his fingerless gloves.

"No, Charles," Moira says, dropping a Manila folder in front of him. "There was a murder last night. You need look at this."

There was always a MacTaggert in the household, as long as Charles can remember. His mother as well, and her parents before that. Mother told him that a long time ago a MacTaggert made a deal to save a life of a sick child, and in exchange gave another to serve them, from one generation to the next. Moira reminds him not one bit of her mother, who was a round, robust woman with skin that seemed permanently reddened by the sun, but he enjoys her nonetheless. Lovely hair.

She's staring at him now, her eyes dark and worried. Charles flips open the file and has to suppress a gasp. "What on earth could have done such a thing."

"See, I was hoping you knew."

"Hardly," Charles replies."Look, I have to go to school. We'll talk about this when I return, all right." He kisses her on the cheek, and leaves her staring at the pictures, rearranging them studiously.

-

Half the sophomore class has to go for a field trip. Erik hands the permission slip to Janice tentatively, but she signs it without even looking properly at it. "So I have to go," he asks, clutching the slip in his hand. She doesn't even look up from chopping onions.

"You have to go," she says. When Erik doesn't reply she puts down her knife and tells him carefully, "You'll be fine, Erik. It's barely an hour's bus ride out of town. Back before sundown. I promise."

"Oh," Erik says. "All right then."

The day of the field trip Erik is first on the bus. He makes his way to the back and slouches down in the farthest seat. Angel is around somewhere, but they're in different classes so Erik can't take the bus with her. He's almost sick with boredom when Charles glides into the bus, closely followed by Emma, who isn't in his class either, but no-one tells her to leave when she takes a seat next to Charles. Erik hasn't seen Charles in days, he's not been to school at all since the bonfire.

Charles doesn't turn around once to look at him, so Erik decides he's going to ignore him too. He sits up straight as the bus starts to move and stares resolutely out the window for the entire journey.

They end up in a botanical garden of some sort. Erik hangs towards the back, mostly ignores the teacher droning on about compost and recyclables and sustainment of the Earth.

"You should pay more attention. We might be tested on this."

Erik starts. Charles had been far ahead of him just a minute ago. Emma's still in front, her blonde head resolutely fixed forward. "Are you talking to me again," he asks warily.

"Just making conversation. We can be friends, Erik. I've always believed there should be less animosity between the races. It's why I fought so hard to establish the council."

Erik scowls at him. "I don't know anything about the council. But I don't think we should be friends."

Charles plucks a leaf from a nearby tree and hands it to Erik. "One of the oldest blooming plants in this region."

Erik frowns at it. "I don't think you should be doing that."

"Possibly not." He stops moving, and everyone just flows around him. No-one bumps accidentally into him, even once, and the teacher doesn't ask them to keep moving. Erik watches as the entire class falls further and further ahead of them. "Friends," Charles says, but he phrases it more like a question.

"But I like -" He hands the leaf back to Charles and jams his fingers into his jeans pockets. "I really like," he says, as loudly as he dares, "not just being friends."

Charles' face lights up for a brief, hopeful moment, and Erik wants to smile at him, but then he shakes his head. "Surely you're aware that -"

"I know. I'm not that ignorant." _Sebastian, vampires, and sometimes he had to watch them die._ Erik takes a deep breath and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. "If it's so hard," he says finally.

"No. I just really - I would like to." Charles seems to come to a decision. "Not just friends. I doubt that's even possible, honestly. Wishful thinking I suppose." Emma's stomping her foot nearby, and Charles says, "We shall discuss this later, I promise. I need to get back."

When Erik turns around he runs smack dab into Angel, who blinks clownishly up at him. "Uh. Hi," he says. "Did you hear -"

"Everything? No, but enough." She grabs him by his shirtsleeve and pulls him away. "Erik," she hisses, "What the hell? You can't just decide to be more than friends with a vampire. Most of the time you can't decide to even be friends. And especially not Charles."

"What's so special about Charles?"

"Besides being a pureborn, which is equivalent to being like a fucking unicorn around here, uh. He's also really old?"

"But I like him," Erik says, crossing his arms over his chest and hunching inwards. He hadn't even considered the pack in any of this, or how they might feel, or if they would disapprove. It's not as if he's one of them, but still. "I'm sorry," he says. "It just happened. Please don't tell Janice."

"No, hey," and her body is suddenly wrapped around his. "Fuck it, sweetie. Don't listen to me, okay. You do whatever you want. I mean, I had an aunt once, stepped out with a shifter? Caused an uproar like you wouldn't believe. Their kids were so cute though, and super fucking talented. Best genes of both parents."

"I don't think I'm going to have children with him."

Angel's laugh is muffled by Erik's jacket. "I should hope not your kids will be buck ugly for sure." She pulls back and says, "I'll talk to Az and Janos, okay. In case you guys decide to," she waves her hands around. "You know. And no-one's gonna rat on you to Janice. Not unless he hurts you."

"I don't see why he would," Erik says. "He's nice, really."

-

There's another murder. Moira tells him this as he's rushing out to school, and Charles pauses with a sigh when she says, "Four bodies. An entire family of campers. Charles, I don't think whoever did this is human. I'm heading towards the crime scene now."

"I'm coming with you."

"I don't think that's a good idea. It's crawling with forensics and police by now. Besides, you have school."

"Well then it's a good thing the Sheriff's my guardian then, isn't it?"

Emma wanders downstairs, her brow raised, and Charles shrugs. He hands her the car keys as she calls out to everyone, "Come along children, we don't want to be late." To Charles she says, "Do you think it's one of us?"

"I don't know. Guess I'll find out."

In the car, he puts on his sunglasses and leans against the car door as she taps nervously on the steering wheel and mutters anxiously to herself. Charles never got used to the humans around him aging, he still remembered her as the serious little girl who was terrified of him and always ran from the room whenever he ventured into view. She'd grown up soon enough, gone away to college and then come back, as all McTaggerts did. But she was an only child, and so most likely the last of her family to be indebted to theirs.

"Moira," he says now.

"Yes, Charles."

"You should get married someday. Leave this place, settle down."

"Are you releasing me?"

"It's not my place," Charles says, pushing his sunglasses back up on his face. "But I won't stop you if you want to leave."

"I was in love with you, all through high school," Moira tells him, her smile fond and distant. "I wanted to come back. I thought you could turn me, maybe. We could live happily ever after, or something."

Charles sits up straighter. "And now?"

"Now you still look sixteen, and I feel old."

"You're not old."

"No, I'm not," Moira says, as she turns left and straight ahead. This part of the woods looks familiar. It's near to where the pups go to hunt. "There were two children," she says, nodding her head to four neatly laid out body bags. "Eight and twelve. It's a mess." She unbuckles her seatbelt and opens the car door. "Stay here, please. I can't explain you away if you cross the line."

Charles rolls down the window as she walks towards the crime scene, leans out of the window. The blood on the ground is still wet, and he catches snatches of conversation as Moira walks up to the officers already on scene.

 _\- as if they were ripped apart from the inside out._

 _A bear maybe? But no way bears come up this high._

 _MacTaggert, you ever seen anything like -_

Charles is about to pull his head back in when he catches the scent: it's faint, but definitely there. And definitely not human. Not wolf, or vampire, but somehow faintly familiar. Charles strains to find it again, but it's gone, and eventually he gives up.

-

Charles doesn't come to school the next day, or the day after that. Erik texts him, but there's no response. At lunch, Angel pokes him in the ribs. "The vamps disappear sometimes. Just what they do. Always come back though."

"Yeah, they're like bedbugs that way. Can't get rid of them," Janos says. Az slaps him upside the head. "Ow, what the fuck was that for?"

"We made a deal, remember." He nods pointedly at Erik.

Janos growls. "Right, I forgot. The vampires go, but they always return. They are in no way like bedbugs in that manner. Is everyone happy now? No okay I have something to say. I don't get it, right. He's a bloodsucker. You're kinda weird, Erik, but come on, you can do better. Maybe not in this town, but there's a pack that lives two towns away. I mean if you don't wanna be with a girl there are probably at least a few other wolves who are, you know." He stares beseechingly at Angel, who shakes her head.

"Subtle, Jan." To Erik she says, "Ignore him."

"You guys, uh. You disapprove."

"Well we're not going to tell you what to do, Erik. It's just weird."

"Incomprehensible," Janos cuts in.

"But you're family now, okay." Angel puts her small hand in his and leans against him. "So ignore them. Or ignore Jan. I like you much better anyway. If we were to kick anyone out, it would be him."

-

"You've obviously been alone too long," Emma is saying. "How about I find you a woman. Or a man, since that seems to be more to your liking recently."

"I enjoy women still," Charles tells her.

"Fine, a woman then."

"Are you volunteering, Emma."

"Don't be disgusting. We could even make it a human woman, seeing as how you're so very fond of the lesser species that live among us."

"And that would be better than a wolf?" Charles raises a faint brow.

"Anything would be better than a wolf," Emma says with conviction. "Besides the smell, there's the part where they can kill you with a mere bite."

"Ah, that," Charles has no response to that. He won't even have the pleasure of drinking from Erik, as he has done with everyone else he's been with. Charles rarely takes unwilling blood anymore, so lovers are usually the best option.

"Besides," Emma continues, her shoulders tightening as she finally gets to the point that she's been leading up to all this while. "He shows up, and people start dying. I would take that as a warning, if not an indication -"

"He's a pup," Charles says. "I sincerely doubt he's capable of such brutality. I've been alone with him often enough. Don't you think if he were the monster that's out there he'd have killed me by now."

"Perhaps he's saving you for last," Emma says ominously. "You are _special_ , after all." She turns to leave, but stops when Charles says, "Is this your opinion or the council's?"

Emma turns, and her smile is as sweet as dusk. "Oh don't worry, darling. You're still the head. For now." Her smile fades away. "I'm not even sure why I'm bothering to tell you this. Might as well let you fall on your own sword, since you seem so eager to do so."

"No one knows," Charles snaps, suddenly furious. None of this is anyone's business but his own and Erik's. And possibly Janice's, but she's a hurdle he will cross at some point.

But of course, it is everyone's business. Around here, it is always everyone's business. "Don't be a fool. I bet even a few humans know by now." She has the nerve to laugh before she saunters out, her booted feet making a deliberate noise across the wooden floor as she exits.

"I like him." Charles looks up, at Raven standing at the top of the stairs. "I think it's sweet, you and him." She makes her way down and links her arm in his. "I've not seen you this happy in a while. It's kinda nice, that smile on your face."

"Have we had much to smile about in recent times," Charles asks her.

Raven shakes her head, her blonde hair falling in a tumble across her shoulders. "Loneliness doesn't suit anyone, not even those of us who've kind of gotten used to it at this point."

Charles presses his forehead against hers and unlinks their arms to wrap his around her shoulders. "Enjoy yourself tonight."

"You could just come," Raven grins at him. "The wolves are coming, so maybe Erik will be there."

"No, I don't feel that's a good idea."

"Like I said," Raven pulls away from him and punches him lightly on the arm. "Loneliness. Don't be a grumpy old vampire, Charles. Come along. You might even have a good time."

"I'll think about it," Charles concedes, knowing from the smile on Raven's face that he's already lost the battle.

-

There's a pep rally, everyone screaming and stomping. They had these in his previous school, but Erik always managed to avoid them. Not so now. He resists the urge to clap his hands over his ears, squeezes his eyes shut instead, until small fingers envelope his wrist. Erik cracks one eye open as Angel leans in and says, "We have like the worst football team in the state. Haven't won a game in three years."

"Yeah, I don't know what the fuck they're all so excited about," Az interrupts. He stands up and hollers loudly, "Wolverines, fuck yeah," refusing to sit until Janos bodily hauls him down.

"See, it's times like these when we just know he's adopted." Janos kicks Erik in the shin. "Hyena," he mouths as he makes a circle with his fingers and jerks his arm up and down. Erik lowers his arms as his body starts to shake.

Az glowers at him. "Great. I've lost you too." He kicks at Erik's other shin, much harder. Erik says, "Ow," but he can't stop smiling. Until he spots Charles walking in on the far side of the room, surrounded by the usual crowd. Everyone else spots him too, three heads swivel in the same direction.

"Great, the bloodsuckers are here," Janos says. Charles has tilted his head up, because he probably can hear them even from that distance. Janos throws him the finger, but Charles only smiles cheerily and waves in response until Emma drags him away. The look _she_ shoots their way is entirely ice-cold and haughty. Charles is still looking at them though, and something in Erik's chest catches.

Halfway through some cheerleading even Erik can tell is awful he stands up and says, "I'm going for a walk." Az and Janos exchange a look, but Angel says, "When you get back can you grab a drink from me from the vending machines? I'm craving that apple thing. Do you have enough coins?" Erik thinks about it, then nods. He heads out, and sighs when the doors shut behind him and the noise mostly cuts out.

The vending machine is down the hall and to the left, if he remembers correctly, and he's trying to decide whether he wants to try the apple thing Angel loves so much when there's movement at the corner of his eye. "Hey," he says.

"Hey yourself." Charles walks closer, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. "Rather tiresome, aren't these," he says, nodding his head back at the gym doors.

"I wouldn't know." Erik puts a coin into the machine and waits for it to light up. "It's my first one."

"Right, of course. Trust me, it would be tiresome even if I hadn't had to live through three generations of it."

"Why do you," Erik asks. The drink pops out after he presses the button and he reaches down to grab it, decides he'll get his own, just to try.

"The town has a rather large human population. If you start in high school they tend not to notice your lack of aging for at least a few years."

"But why not just." Why not just move to a city and disappear, he wants to ask. Keep moving so no-one notices you at all, let alone find out you don't age.

"Well, I was born here," Charles says. He takes the can from Erik's hand and pops the lid open for him. "This drink is disgusting. I cannot believe you truly enjoy the taste." When Charles hands it back to him Erik has no choice but to put it to his lips and swallow. It's not that bad. Sweet. Very sweet. He takes another swallow, then another, and only stops when he notices Charles is looking at him, fond expression of amusement on his face.

"It's good," he says, stubborn, because it is.

"All right. But how will I ever be able to kiss you when you taste of processed sugar and rancid apples."

"Oh." Erik tilts his head, considering. "Were we going to kiss?"

"Yes." He takes the can away from Erik once again. "So enough of that. Come along."

"Angel wants her drink," Erik laments, but allows himself to be pulled along when Charles takes his hand. They end up outside, Charles pushing him up against a wall as he lays kisses on his face, his neck, everywhere but his lips. Erik tries to capture them but Charles avoids him easily. "You're being mean."

"But you taste terrible." When Erik tries again though he doesn't slip away, just sighs into it as Erik slides his tongue in between his teeth. Then he grips Erik's arms and pushes him even further inwards, until he can feel the ridges of the bricks against his back. Erik pulls away, he needs to breathe, but there's a sharp prick against his lips, "Ow."

Charles blinks, lifts his hands to his blood tinged lips. "That's your blood," he says. "I bit you. I didn't -"

"Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to." He touches his own lips, marvels at how much blood there is, wetting his chin. It was only a little bite. But Charles' teeth are sharp.

"No, it's -" He licks his lips and looks confused. "It's fine. I feel fine. It was perhaps too little blood."

"But what if you feel ill afterwards."

"No, it should be immediate," Charles says. "I've seen it happen before. It's always immediate." He reaches into his back pocket and brings out a small square of fabric. "But perhaps we should head back inside. Wipe your lips." When Erik only frowns at it without moving he lifts the handkerchief up to Erik's mouth and starts dabbing. "Don't," he says, when Erik flinches. "It's fine, Erik. I'm fine. Except for perhaps my pride." Erik tries for a smile, and Charles looks contemplatively at him, before he moves forward, fast, and kisses him again light on the lips. "We're hard to kill. Far more dangerous men than you have tried, and I'm still here. Come on. I think your pack is starting to worry."

When Erik returns home Janice is sitting in the living room, knitting needles in her hands as she watches tv. "How was your evening," she says, but then she stops and looks at him, drawing a deep breath even as she rises and surges forward. "What is that smell on you." Her nose is on his neck, inhaling deeply before she curses under her breath. "Did he hurt you."

"There's nothing wrong." Erik bites his lip. He wants to push her away but he can't, so he just presses himself against the door and allows her to sniff him. To sniff Charles all over him. The way he cradled Erik's head in his hands and his lips that were cool to the touch but not cold, _Charles Charles Charles_. "He wouldn't hurt me," he says, and finally Janice stops.

She steps away and shakes her head. "No," she says, so soft that Erik almost doesn't hear it. "Not him."

Erik blinks at the way her fists tighten, the way her face gets hard and angry. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Other than lying to me," Janice says. "No, I don't blame you for more than that." Erik shakes his head, and she rolls her shoulders back. "Just, go to your room, Erik."

"But I -"

"Go. Now."

When Erik turns around at the top of the stairs, she's still standing at the front door, staring into space.

Janice tells him the next morning that under no circumstances is he to come close to another vampire again. He doesn't argue with her, just pours himself his breakfast and sits down at the table like a good, obedient little pup. She watches him idly for a while, using his spoons and eating disgusting food, but finally she sighs and says, "I'm going to go to work. Will be home late. You'll be back home immediately after school, won't you?"

It's a question, not an order, so Erik nods his head. He even looks straight at her, and when she leaves she looks mostly satisfied. He pushes the bowl away, not hungry anymore. It doesn't seem fair, her being able to tell him what to do, who to see. It's his life, not hers.

-

Erik invites him over to his house with the type of guilelessness that no wolf over the age of five should have. "Janice won't be home," he says, leaning against Charles' locker. There's a hint of defiance in his eyes when he says that; his chin juts up and the line of his jaw is hard. Emma's hovering nearby; Charles can feel her disapproving gaze on his back but he ignores it in favor of smiling at Erik.

"But your house, Erik. Surely -"

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

"No, no. I'd like that. Around six?"

Erik grins, and it transforms his entire face. "Six is perfect."

It's only because Charles catches Erik's scent in the open upstairs window that he doesn't notice that there's another wolf in the house as he approaches it, and by the time he does notice it's far too late, and Janice is opening the door to stare at him. "Hello, Janice," Charles says politely.

The door slams in his face.

Charles waits. Inside, he can hear Erik's footsteps on the stairs and a muffled, "Is that Charles?" The door opens once again to reveal Erik's mildly panicked face. "I thought I messaged you to tell you -"

"Yes, Erik's become quite the expert on lying, apparently." Janice shoulders her way in between the two of them to glare at Charles.

"Perhaps I shouldn't," Charles says, glancing from one of them to the other. Janice's face is cold fury, and Erik still looks alarmed. "Look, we're chemistry partners. I was merely coming over to discuss a lab project."

"I'm that stupid, really. Go to your room, Erik."

"No, but I -"

"No buts. Now." To Charles, she says, "The council will hear about this."

"I'm not doing anything wrong," Charles protests, even as Erik turns to glare at her.

"He's a pup, you're a bloodsucker." She narrows her gaze at Erik and Erik snaps his mouth shut before he turns and flees upstairs. Charles doesn't blame him. He holds his hands up, palms outwards, and backs away slowly. Janice just slams the door, once again, in his face.

-

Erik opens his eyes and Charles is crouching next to him, his knees pressed together and his crossed elbows resting on his legs. He almost shifts out, should have sensed another person in the room earlier, _it's not safe but okay it's Charles_.

"Why do you sleep on the floor," Charles asks, when Erik doesn't move and only blinks at him. "Something wrong with the bed?" Erik turns his face into the crook of his arm. "Janice will kill me if she senses I'm here, but I didn't want you to think that I. You should tell me this isn't a good idea, Erik. Tell me to leave."

Erik turns his head back, watches as Charles doesn't move. Everyone moves, all the time, just a little, but not Charles. Not the ones like him. "You want me to tell you to leave?" He yawns some even though he's not sleepy anymore.

"Yes."

"You can stay. I don't care." When Charles doesn't move, he adds, "But you always say that, and then you keep coming back." Charles laughs softly, and finally he just trails his fingers across Erik's cheek. Erik shuts his eyes once more, and when he opens them again Charles is gone.

Janice grounds him, first thing in the morning. Erik tries to argue with her, but her hand clamps down on the back of his neck. She doesn't shake him hard enough to hurt, just enough so he knows that yielding is the only option.

"You go to school," she says, when she finally releases him. "You come home. You do not see that bloodsucker, you do not call him, you do not make eyes at him across the school campus. Do you understand."

"His name is Charles," Erik says. "And you can't stop me from seeing who I want."

"Oh, child," Janice says, and she suddenly sounds exhausted. "You think this just about you? There are only two things that are constant in Newport. One is that there's too little sun. Two is that the vampires and the wolves stay the fuck away from each other." She holds her hand up as Erik bristles. "I know, you're sixteen. You don't think it matters. But trust me, around here, it matters."

He follows her into the kitchen as she starts pulling ingredients out of the cupboard, trying to pay attention to the words she's saying beyond the thought that he's not allowed to see Charles again. "You don't understand," he says miserably.

"Oh, I think I do," Janice says. "I've heard enough about Charles, and the Xavier clan in general, to know exactly what I'm talking about."

Erik snaps his head up. "But he's not like the rest of them."

"Oh, he is exactly like them. Or rather, they're exactly like him." She sighs when Erik furrows his brows. "Just do what I tell you, please. Now do you want bacon and eggs for breakfast or what?"

Erik scowls at her, but he doesn't want to argue. "Yes please," he says, and she smiles, finally, and puts the kettle on to boil.

-

Charles walks up to the bar & grill around suppertime. He orders the steak, more for show than anything else, and sure enough he hears Janice telling Lucinda she's taking five. His plate is dumped unceremoniously in front of him before Janice slides into the booth across. "You have a lot of nerve."

"When you get to my age, love, it's not so much nerve as it is boredom."

"Is that what this is about then. Because you're bored."

"No, of course not," Charles says, then adds with about as much sincerity he can muster, which is a fair bit. "I'm very fond of Erik."

"You get fond of your pets. Get a fucking cat if you want a pet." Janice bares her teeth slightly and pushes the plate closer towards him. "Eat your meat."

Charles idly picks up his steak knife. "I assure you I harbor no ill intentions. I know he's young but -"

Janice slams her fist down onto the table. The plate jumps slightly from the force of it, but no one bothers to look around. "It's not about his youth, and it sure as hell ain't about how good your intentions are. Just because he doesn't know better doesn't mean you have the right. You could play this game out with any other of the other pups and we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"I'm not interested in any of the others."

"Wonderful, since I wasn't offering them to you."

Charles starts cutting his steak into tiny red slivers. "I should think," he says, when he's satisfied, "that we have more pressing matters on hand than my interest in your young ward. Such as our increasingly gruesome body count."

"If you imagine for one second this won't matter because there's a monster out there -"

"Oh, I think it will." He pauses and brings a slice of meat to his mouth. It really is excellent. "Except, didn't you both arrive just around the times they started. Quite a coincidence, wouldn't you say."

To her credit, Janice's irises only yellow slightly. "I'm one of the founding families."

"And Erik?"

Janice doesn't say anything for a while, but her muscles are tense enough that he braces himself to flee should she decide to launch herself at his throat. Finally she says, "Well played, Xavier. I hope he rips your heart out and eats it when he realizes exactly what you are."

As she stands to leave Charles lowers his gaze and says, only slightly above a whisper, "I meant what I said. I have no intentions of hurting him."

"Nah," Janice tells him, her voice quiet with repressed rage and some distant fragility. "You just want to finish what someone else started."

-

Erik is doing his homework when the keys rattle in the door and Janice steps in. Language is easy. Math is hard. Science is okay. Janice knows this, and subsequently she's proud when he passes algebra but doesn't comment when he gets an A in French. It doesn't seem fair but now he wants all As.

He'd been with Janice a year before she decided it was time for him to go back to school. He'd fought with her then, insisted that the books she gave him and the hours she spent patiently teaching were good enough. Mostly he'd only done it to please her, anyway. There was absolutely no use in calculus, not as far as he could tell. "It's not just about knowledge," Janice said then. "You need to -" she sighed. "I promise it will be okay. And if it's not we'll pull you out, how about that." There weren't any wolves at the school, so Erik was alone most of the time, but it wasn't as awful as he thought it would be.

And now there's the pack, and Charles.

"Hey," he says, when she pauses at the table instead of going upstairs to change.

She pushes his hair out of his eyes and says, "A little long. Do you want me to cut it for you." Erik shakes his head no. "I thought," she continues. "That I'd bring you home, because you're so young and it wasn't good for you to be alone with just an old hag like me for company."

"You're not an old hag." Erik bristles, but she doesn't want him to talk so he doesn't.

"I forgot why I left to begin with. This town is what happens when you get too old and nothing is new anymore."

"Am I still grounded?"

"No, you can." She stops. "I will ask you nicely not to see him, Erik. And I wish you wouldn't. But I won't force you not to."

"Really?" He brightens, but then she growls and he tries to look less happy.

"Just know they're dangerous, and they will hurt you." Erik furrows his brows as she kisses him on the top of his head, and when she goes upstairs he catches the faint scent of vampire.

-

If Charles were the sort given to fantasies, Erik showing up at his doorstep late at night, wet from the rain and begging to be let in might well be at the top of a very short list. But he hasn't been for over a century now and so when it happens he merely draws Erik into the warmth of the foyer and blurts out, "Did Janice talk to you about anything?"

Erik squints and turns around as if expecting to see her there. "No. I couldn't sleep. I don't -"

"Nevermind," Charles says. "Don't mind me." He squeezes Erik's arm and his jacket squelches distressingly. "Did you run all the way here in the rain," he mutters, glancing down to where a pool of wood-warping water is ominously gathering.

"Do you want me to leave. I'm sorry maybe I should call fir-"

"Oh for heaven's sake Erik," Charles cuts in quickly before he actually turns tail and leaves, which Charles wouldn't put past him. "No," he says, reassuring. "You're wet, come on in. We'll get you out of these clothes."

Charles leans politely outside his bathroom door as Erik towels himself dry and changes into a sweatsuit Charles appropriates from Armando's room, because it's doubtful any of Charles' clothes will fit.

"Would you like a drink," he says, when Erik finally opens the door, a towel loosely draped around his shoulders. "Some hot tea perhaps?"

"I'm not thirsty, but thank you." His hair is sticking out in every which direction. Charles reaches out to smooth errant strands down, mutters, "You need a haircut."

"You sound like Janice."

Charles has to refrain from rolling his eyes. "Oh, I hardly think so. You're sure you wouldn't like a cup of tea?"

Erik grimaces. "Not tea. Never tea."

"Oh now, this will never work out. I'm sorry Erik but you will have to leave." He can't bring himself to put his hand down. Instead he slides it down to the back of Erik's neck, thumb skittering across his pulse. Blood, always so much blood. Anyone else and Charles would have him up against the wall by now, teeth sunk in deep as he drank and his free hand tearing away at all his clothes.

"You smell really good," Erik says. He leans down and inhales, every line of his body predatory, edged with intent.

"I believe those are my lines." Charles honestly can't help himself, once again. Even he doesn't think this is a good idea, and he's the one with his knee pressed against the inside of Erik's thighs, not five minutes later, needy and aching for it. He kisses a wet trail across Erik's throat and tries his best to resist the urge to bite down. Oh god, he wants nothing more than to bite down.

He pulls away and blinks unsteadily at Erik. "I'm not certain -" Which is when Erik grabs him by the back of the neck and maneuvers him face down onto the bed. Charles pushes himself up onto his hands and knees, startled enough to glance behind him. Erik only drapes his body over Charles' back, his fingers reaching down to grab Charles' wrist for support. Charles moans when Erik kisses him on the shoulder, open mouthed. "Don't," he shivers. "If you break the skin -"

Erik stills. "I don't want to hurt you. But I can't always -"

Charles has to laugh at that. He lets his forehead fall onto the pillow. He has two centuries on Erik and he's barely holding on as it is. Every time he breathes in Erik's scent overwhelms him. Every movement Erik makes is an acute reminder of the blood rushing under his skin, hot and alive and _wolf._ "Oh, Erik," he says, from one heartbeat to the next. "What do we do."

The weight lifts off of him, and when Charles looks back Erik has crawled to the foot of the bed and wrapped his hands loosely around his bent knees. He's shaking, Charles realizes. "I don't want to hurt you," he says, low and harsh, his lips pressed together tight. Charles scoots forward, and when Erik doesn't react he ventures a hand upon his ankle, slides it slowly up his leg. The scars are an infinite map under his fingers, both seen and unseen. "I've survived a long time, Erik. I'm certain I could protect myself before you could do me much harm."

"No, but I've hurt people." His expression shifts into anger, then to grief. "You don't know."

"No, perhaps I don't," Charles murmurs. But whatever else that Erik's going through notwithstanding, he's not entirely wrong.

"So - what do we do now?"

The air stills as Charles tries to think of a reply that won't involve Erik leaving. That _will_ involve Erik leaving. "I'm not certain," he settles for instead. "We could just sleep. Janice won't expect you back until morning?"

"No. I just left, uh. She sleeps deep, though."

Charles holds out his hand, and after some hesitation Erik takes it, allows Charles to pull him into lying position. He presses himself against Erik's back and kisses him on the bone that juts out, too much, on his shoulder.

"Why do you sleep at night," Erik asks, just as Charles is settling in, as both the tension and the want start to bleed down to manageable levels.

"Well, it is a school day tomorrow."

"But I want to hunt. There's a moon, and I always want to hunt."

"So do I," Charles admits. "But we have to blend in. It's the only way to survive."

Erik turns over to face Charles and says, "Can I see your teeth." Charles smiles, and Erik says, "Not those. Your real teeth. I've only felt them sometimes when you're kissing me." Charles extends them obligingly, and as usual he feels the prick of pain as they come out, and as usual he almost immediately wants to feed on someone. Erik slips his fingers into his mouth, and grazes a knife-sharp edge curiously. Without fear, but then again, why would Erik be afraid.

"Kiss me," Charles says.

Erik withdraws his hand and Charles starts to retract his teeth, but Erik says, "Don't," so he doesn't.

His kiss is tentative, soft, and Charles exhales into it, into the delicate thrust of his tongue in his mouth, against his teeth, but when Charles slides a hand under Erik's shirt his muscles are tense, a coiled spring. Charles allows himself to be pushed flat down onto the bed, for Erik to drape his body heavily on top of him, still unbreaking the kiss, choosing instead to explore Charles' mouth like they've got all the time in the world. When Erik finally pulls away Charles almost drags him back again, he's so flush with heat. He only says though, "We should sleep."

"I'll try," Erik says.

They end up on their sides, Charles' front to Erik's back and their fingers entwined together. Charles tries his best to keep his teeth from Erik's neck, and it surprises him again, how much Erik isn't aware of. He isn't an expert on the wolves by far, but he's certainly been uneasy acquaintances with them long enough to understand that both their species value survival by anonymity above all else. Often enough it was the only point of similarity between the two. But then everything about Erik is subtly wrong in that sense. There's not a chance he would even be here if he wasn't.

When he walks down for breakfast the next morning Emma is standing in the kitchen, her nose deliberately held high as she sniffs the air. "Good morning," Charles says genially.

"Dog," Emma replies. "You let the dog sleep in your bed. In our house."

"Be quiet," Charles says, reaching into the fridge for a packet of blood. He can almost hear her eyebrows raise themselves to her forehead.

"Are you telling me to shut up. Are you even serious, Charles."

"I'm perfectly serious. Shut up or I will shut you up." He closes the fridge door as gently as he can and turns to face her. "Do tell me you understand."

Emma narrows her eyes. Charles merely sets his blood down onto the table and says, "Be a dear and fetch me a cup, would you. And I don't suppose you know what wolves enjoy in the morning, do you?"

Emma's lip curls, but she only spins to grab a cup from the counter. She slams it down in front of him. "Meat," she says. "I would assume they eat raw meat. Maybe rabbit. Like dogs."

"Actually," Erik calls down from the top of the stairs. "I kind of like fruit loops." He scratches the back of his head as he walks down, and Charles can't help but notice how low his jeans are riding against his bare skin. "Do you have fruit loops?"

Emma says, abrupt, "I'm late for school."

"It's only seven-thirty," Charles says cheerily, but she's already gone.

"I never get used to that," Erik says, making a whooshing motion with his arm. "I keep trying to track the motion."

Charles finishes his cup and puts it back down onto the counter, tilts his head up so Erik can kiss him.

"You taste of blood," Erik says when he pulls back.

"Sorry."

"No, I like it," Erik replies, and kisses him again.


	6. Interlude

Charles' mother almost died giving birth to him. This he knew for a fact, because when he was still young and linked to her she would press her forehead to his so he could feel her screaming as he tore her apart, angry and impatient to get out. His wails seemed sharper each time she relived it, loud and unbearable. Her lips always trembled, pulled back from her teeth in remembered disgust. Charles cried, but silently, and that seemed to please her as she petted and fussed with him, kissed his tears away. "You're my beautiful boy, Charles. Look how beautiful you are. Imagine, birthed from a monstrosity such as your father."

The story, when she told him, was of the pain that rendered her unable to have another, her hushed protestations as the family gathered around and argued about the bloodline and the ever dwindling numbers of pureborns. "But we have Charles," her explanation was. "And there's Emma. I refuse to be the last." There was no other child born besides him, so Charles assumed that she had won. Most likely because she was always grandfather's favorite, and no-one disobeyed him, except possibly his darling golden child.

That changed when it was discovered that she was also refusing to feed Charles. "I'm perfectly fine," Charles whispered when they finally came for him, huddled in the corner of the room and so very very hungry. Father bit his wrist and held it to Charles to drink as if he was dying, but it wasn't enough. He needed his mother, and it was only years later that he understood that they'd trapped her in the bedroom, forced her to feed him until he grew strong enough that he could live without her blood. Until he came of age and their link was finally broken.

She immolated herself two weeks after the day Charles turned sixteen. "It's no wonder," Emma muttered, as they laid his mother to rest. "All they have to do is pop them out and feed them once in a while. We have to suffer, bound by blood until our spawn stops being a parasite."

"Some women consider it a sacrifice well worth making."

"Not the Xavier women, quite clearly." He'd barely begun to know her then, the family had only recently returned from Scandinavia. Charles found her brash, and rude, and fond of behaving in a manner entirely unsuitable to a lady. It was refreshing, being around someone disinclined to be polite or dishonest. Possibly because she cared very little for him, but still.

"You're a very strange young woman, Emma Frost," he told her, as he forgot briefly about attempting to shed the appropriate tears.

"And you're an old man, for sixteen. How very _dire_ , Charles." She linked her arm in his and said, "I will never breed with you, I hope you know this." Her lips curled up, as if the mere thought distressed her immensely.

"Do you not care for preserving our family's bloodline." Charles said.

"About as much as you, I imagine." He watched as they laid the empty coffin down into the earth and shook his head at the sheer pointlessness of it.

It was his mother who turned Armando, shortly after Charles was born and with no basis save for: Charles' mother often did whatever she felt like doing at any one time, and never minded the consequences. Even a free negro who worked in the kitchen that caught her interest, entirely at random. Charles imagined they were lovers, but his father never talked about it and there certainly wasn't any occasion to ask his mother. Armando he never dared ask, but he lit candles for her every year. It was nice to know that someone in this family at least loved her enough.

Once, and only once, in 1940's New York when they were both drunk on prohibition alcohol and the blood of unfortunate smugglers, Armando pulled him into an alley and shoved him against a wall, his laughter fading away as he said, "You look exactly like her."

No-one had ever looked at Charles in that way before, with such fondness and subsumed heat Charles wanted to curl up because of it. "Oh," he said, because that had always been true, and he had always refused to acknowledge it. He rubbed furiously at his eyes until Armando blurred into the darkness of the alley. "Go to hell."

Armando didn't kiss him that night, which was both a shame and a relief. Shame because Charles would probably have let him; relief because he never could have lived with not knowing who it was Armando truly wanted to be with.

 


	7. No matter how perfect the day is, it always has to end.

Late afternoon he finds Armando in the drawing room, playing the usual incomprehensible type of game with Alex. When Charles slides into the room he immediately presses pause and nods his head at Alex.

"What," Alex says. Then, "Oh. Yeah, whatever. Later, right."

"Don't you have a home, Alex. Why are you and Sean always here?"

Alex makes a face. "Jean doesn't believe in the X-Box. Or the twentieth century, really." He flips his thumb at Armando. "Why do you get the cool fake parents?"

"Possibly because Jean's your real mother and you should be more respectful towards her."

"Uh-huh," Alex says. "She hates you, dude. You gotta know that." He grins at Charles as he brushes past him, says, "You're older than him? Try to beat that motherfucker with your super reflexes, his smugness is driving me batshit."

Charles stares after him for a while. "Should I know what he's getting at."

"I don't know," Armando says. "Do you want to play Halo?" He tosses the controller down onto the table.

Charles slides his fingers into his pockets and gets directly to the point, "Would you like to take a trip, Armando."

"Depends on where exactly."

"Eastwards. I have -" He pauses. "Questions."

"What about Emma."

"Don't tell Emma. This is a favor."

Armando looks contemplative, but finally he only says, "When do I leave?"

-

Angel's the one that opens the door, but her parents are hovering nearby. "Erik," she says, and jumps into his arms to kiss him on the lips. Erik staggers back, but it's nice. He hugs her and she doesn't break. The covered tray he's holding almost does though. Angel catches it as Erik starts to lose control of the edges. "Did you bring us food?"

"Janice made pie."

"This is awesome. Jan and Az never bring food. They are such freeloaders." She lifts it to her face and inhales deeply. "Kidney. Awesome."

"Here, hon, let me take this from you." Angel's mother is as tiny as she is. Erik has to keep looking downwards; it's as if he's a giant. She grabs the tray and disappears into the kitchen after flashing a smile in Erik's direction.

Her father smiles and sticks out his hand. "It's good to meet you, son. Janice has told us plenty about you."

"She has?" His breath catches in his throat. Janice told him no-one knew.

"Well, only that you're the -" He stops and starts again, his eyes crinkling up at the corners as the smile returns to his face. "Only that you're a lovely young man and a welcome addition to the pack."

Angel slides her arm around Erik's waist and mutters, but fondly, "Please don't let him get started about genetic diversity. We'll be married before you know it." At Erik's mildly alarmed growl she pats him reassuringly on the belly. "Don't worry, sweetie. You're cute but I'm not carrying your pups."

"Where are those two boys," Angel's mother says, emerging from the kitchen with a cloth in her hands. She shakes her head as Angel shrugs. "Late, as usual, I suppose."

"Yeah, they're too cool to come on time. You should know that by now, Ma." She detaches herself from Erik only to grab his hand. "Come on, we'll go up to my room while we wait and I slowly die of starvation."

There's nowhere to sit in Angel's room except for the bed. She jumps on top of it and pats the empty space next to her as Erik stands there awkwardly. "Come on, Erik. I'm not gonna bite."

Finally he crawls in with her and stretches his legs out. Angel puts her head on his shoulders, shifts until she's comfortable. "Your parents seem nice," Erik says.

"They're okay." She pulls slightly back because Erik can't settle down. There's another scent on the bed besides Angel, buried dark and deep and _sex heat male_. He bares his teeth and Angel says, "Oh shit."

"Janos."

"Okay, firstly," Angel says, poking him in the chest with one red-painted fingernail. "That's creepy. The scent's buried enough that you shouldn't be able to do that. Secondly, you cannot tell anybody." Erik shakes his head silently, and she pokes him again. "I'm serious, Erik. If Az finds out he'll kill us both. Well okay he won't but he gets weird sometimes and I don't wanna fuck things up with all of us. And my dad -" She sighs heavily and throws herself onto her back. "If he finds out he'll start planning the wedding immediately. I wasn't kidding when I said I don't want to have children. Not yet, anyway." Her gaze slides over to his. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

Erik stares at her, still stuck on the word creepy. She's smiling softly at him though, the way she always does, as if nothing has changed. "I promise not to tell anyone."

"No, I know. I was just pulling your leg." She grabs an armful of his t-shirt and tugs him down until he's flat on the bed, soft warm body pressed against him and her nose buried in his throat. "Ugh, you always smell like vampire nowadays. Is his cock really that great?"

"I like the way I smell," Erik says. The way Charles smells. It makes Erik want to howl at the moon and run and fuck, makes him feel normal like it's what normal wolves do except Charles is a vampire so it isn't. "But I don't know about his, uh," he finishes uncertainly. They always get close, but after the last time. He flushes.

Angel tilts her head back, "No, seriously?" She starts to say more, but they both turn their heads as the door opens and Az peeks in.

"Hey, you guys gonna stay up here all night and cuddle or what. I'm starving." He disappears back down and Angel sighs, disengages herself from Erik.

"We'll talk about this later," she says. "Let's go eat before Jan finishes everything."

-

Charles calls Erik to make some sort of plan to go out, but Erik informs him that he apparently has to go on a grocery run. "Do you want to pick me up, we can go together." Charles has not been in a supermarket in a while, and he recalls it as being a vaguely unpleasant experience, but Erik sounds so hopeful Charles can't bring himself to say no.

"I don't know how to drive," Erik says, when Charles pulls up into the driveway and Erik folds himself into the car, grinning at him.

"And yet Janice sends you out to do the groceries."

Erik ducks his head. "She said something about how if I'm going to insist on seeing you, uh. You might as well be of some use."

Charles has to laugh at that. He pulls Erik in for a slow, easy kiss and when he can finally break it he says, "Fine. But you have to make it up to me afterwards." They pull into the supermarket parking lot and Charles finally finds a space to park after going in circles for what seems like forever. He turns off the engine and unbuckles his belt. "Come along, then."

Inside, Erik asks curiously, "Who takes care of the shopping for you."

"Someone," Charles responds, a little too shortly. He shrugs when Erik's jaw tightens and grabs a can from a nearby shelf. "Do you need beans, Erik," he asks, peering at the can.

"I have a list," Erik says, holding up a piece of paper.

"Of course you do. Carry on, then." He loses Erik somewhere in the produce aisle behind a barrage of caterwauling children and catches up with him again at the meat section. "Something the matter," he asks Erik, sidling up to him as he stares intently at the rows of fresh meat.

"I'm not supposed to buy too much beef," Erik replies, a mournful tone in his voice. "Then she cooks it, which makes it kind of gross anyway."

"Gross," Charles repeats. Every day, Erik sounds more and more like those bratty pack members of his. Charles doesn't approve; part of Erik's appeal is that he is so unlike everyone else in the school it's almost startling. He smiles though, when Erik bares his teeth and the guy behind the counter rapidly finds an excuse to escape into the back room. "You're scaring the locals," Charles says, and Erik hums distractedly in response. "Buy whatever you want." He's weary of this already. He has better things to do with his time. And with Erik. "I'll pay for all of it. You can tell Janice it's a gift."

Erik looks startled, then intrigued, but finally he only sighs and says. "She'll make me send it back, I know it. She doesn't like you at all."

"Except for when I'm to chauffeur you around, I gather."

"Yes, except for that." The decision is finally made as to how much beef Erik will buy, and after that Erik stares at his grocery list and says, "Oh, I think we're done."

"Well thank god for that I thought we'd be in here forever," Charles says.

Erik rolls his trolley towards the nearest available counter and says quietly, "You're not very nice sometimes."

"No, I don't suppose I am." He puts his hand over Erik's though, briefly. "I apologize. I do - I would do this every day, if it meant I would be spending time with you." It isn't particularly safe here, but he leans up and kisses Erik on the cheek regardless. Erik blushes, and Charles is about to say something even more embarrassing when the cashier girl clears her throat.

"Paper or plastic," she asks.

"Do I look as if I care, darling," Charles says.

"Paper, thank you." Erik shoos him ahead and Charles goes, reluctantly.

When they finally get around to loading the groceries into the back of the car Charles ventures, "Does Janice expect you to stay home after you've delivered the groceries. Because I was thinking, perhaps -"

"Yes," Erik says. "No, I meant," he adds. "I have to unpack everything but she's not home so you can come in."

"Brilliant," Charles tells him. "I can help you unpack."

They manage to get it all done within minutes upon reaching the house. Charles has never been more grateful for supernatural speed. Erik's reaching for him even before they get to his bedroom door, and they end up in a tangle of arms and legs on Erik's bed, desperately trying to tear each other's clothes off. "Ahh," Charles says, as Erik's cock presses against his thigh. "Wait, wait." He pulls himself away to catch his bearings.

"I don't know." Erik looks dazed and disheveled, well on the way to being entirely debauched. "You're too far away," he says, and it sounds dangerously close to a whine.

"Patience." Charles cups Erik's cock through his jeans, savors the rush of pleasure when Erik gasps and shimmies. He carefully undoes the zipper and drags the jeans and underwear down past his hips. Erik's scent hits him as an almost physical blow when Charles bends down, nuzzles at the line between his thigh and his hip. He can do this without losing control, surely he can. It's not as if the blood here feels richer, or thicker, or the veins in Erik's cock are just pulsing with life. He rubs his cheek against it desperately, and it's almost a surprise when Erik reacts with a suppressed howl; Charles had been so focused inwards he'd almost forgotten this was possibly all very new to Erik. Charles turns his head and kisses the base of it, not allowing his mouth to open. It's almost impossible not to, so he raises himself up to kiss Erik, wraps his fingers around it instead.

Erik jerks against him helplessly as Charles finds and keeps a rhythm that's steady; Charles has done this often enough, but usually with far more letting of blood, and never with such restraint. Or with such need. He kisses Erik again, and again and again as Erik's fingers claw against his shirt, as he moans and sighs and then stops, suddenly and without warning, and Charles pulls away just in time as Erik's teeth bare, too many to be human, and his eyes shade into black. His come splatters over his own belly, and once again Charles has to stop himself from leaning down to lick it all up.

"Wow," Erik says eventually, when he looks human again. Or mostly human, at least. He pulls Charles down on top of him and nuzzles his throat, wraps strong arms around his shoulders. "That was nice."

Charles groans. "More than nice, surely. Give an old man a break here."

"Really nice?"

"Oh, shut up." It wasn't just nice though. It was also, if Charles is being honest with himself, a little too close. Erik's teeth had been a hair's breadth away from Charles' throat. Not a success by any means. Still, as Erik kisses him drowsily and sweetly, perhaps Charles will put those thoughts aside for another day.

-

Erik's digging into the closet, looking for a pair of jeans, when there's a knock. "It's not locked," he calls out.

The door opens, and Janice says, "I got you a job."

"A job?"

"At the bar & grill."

"Oh," Erik says. "But I have school."

"After school." She walks over and rummages through the closet, emerging with the exact pair of jeans Erik was looking for. "At the grill. You don't have to take it, but it might be good for you. Earn some money, maybe."

"Oh," Erik says, taking the jeans from her. "I need to earn my keep, sorr-"

"No, what?" She grabs him as he's turning away. "You don't need to earn anything. We don't need the money. Lots of kids work. I just figured." She exhales. "It'll occupy your time, and it's good experience. Like I said, you don't have to. We can get someone else."

"No, it's okay. I'll do it. I can work."

"Great," she says, and smiles. "You start tomorrow." She reaches into the closet once again and pulls out his black turtleneck. "Wear this for your," there's a pause as she grimaces. "Date."

"Really?" Erik says doubtfully.

"Hides your neck. It's perfect. I'll buy you ten."

-

They generally avoid one another in school other than when they share a class, but when Charles catches up with Erik as he's walking home Erik tells him, "I can't meet you tonight, I have to go to work."

"Work? What do you mean work."

"Janice got me a job," Erik answers, brightening slightly. "At the bar & grill. I don't know if you've been there."

"I've been there," Charles replies, perfectly dry. "Fantastic crab meat."

"What?"

"Nevermind." He holds up his car keys. "Would you like a lift?"

Erik shakes his head apologetically. "No, it's near, I think I prefer to walk."

"So how many nights a week are you expected to work," Charles asks. And how much are they paying you, he doesn't ask. And he also refrains from offering to pay Erik more to come home with him.

Erik seems excited at the prospect, though. He pulls his backpack up higher over his shoulder and starts backing away. "I'm sorry," he calls out. "I have to go."

"No, that's fine. Leave. I have stuff to do as well," Charles says, but Erik's not even listening to him anymore.

-

Erik's wiping down the bar for the fifth time, because everyone insists on spilling their drinks or not using a coaster, when Charles slides onto the stool across from him. "I don't quite think it's legal for you to serve alcohol." Erik sniffs out Janice, but she's in the back discussing produce with the cook. Charles puts his elbows on the counter and beams.

"Do you want a drink?"

"I would," Charles sighs. "But I'm supposed to be sixteen as well."

"How awful for you," Erik says.

"You could pour me a soda and add some rum to it."

"Or I could pour you a soda." He retrieves a glass and dumps ice into it, ignores Charles' faintly annoyed expression. One of the regulars stands and says, "Later, Erik." Erik waves at him as he sets the full glass in front of Charles. "It's on the house."

"You've been here a week and people already know your name. How nice for you." Erik spreads his hands against the edges of the bar and stares at Charles until he settles down and finishes his drink in silence. When Erik starts to move away to serve someone else, Charles says, so low his lips barely move, "I miss you." Erik cocks his head. Janice is still discussing produce. It's an outright argument now. Over fish. Why would anyone even _care._ Charles looks faintly miserable, so Erik glances at the back door, touches the crook of Charles' arm briefly until he follows his gaze.

Outside, Erik rounds on him before the door can even swing shut. "Feeling like a bitch today, are we."

"I can see someone's learning the big words from those thugs you call your friends."

"They're my pack," Erik says, calm. Charles moves, faster than Erik's ever seen. Fast enough that Erik can't track him, except for how Charles is predictable, except for how he decides suddenly not to be, and Erik feints left and still ends up with his hackles raises and his teeth bared, Charles' forearm jammed against his throat. It's over almost as soon as it starts. Charles is on the opposite side of the wall and Erik is heaving, catching his breath.

"I apologize, Erik," Charles says. "Believe me when I say I would never hurt you."

"I believe you," Erik says, but his neck still hurts. It fades away soon enough, so he wants to kill Charles perhaps a little bit less. "I have to go back to work. They'll be looking for me."

"No, yes, of course." Charles is next to him once again, his arm on Erik's elbow. He still looks faintly shaken, and his touch is tentative, apologetic. Erik leans in automatically, wants to say, _Sorry, I'm sorry I was rude_ , but instead he kisses Charles so Charles knows everything is all right between them.

"I should go," Charles says. "Before Janice raises a shotgun at me. I know there's one under the bar."

"Okay."

The rest of his shift passes by quickly enough, and by the time he gets home he's so tired he just has enough energy to collapse into bed.

When he wakes up Charles is sitting at the foot of the bed. "Are you still angry with me?"

Erik yawns and stretches out his arms. He's not, but he says, "I don't like it when you're mean."

"People tend not to, yes." He glances away, and he looks old, and tired. Erik shakes off the rest of his sleep and crawls over, puts his head in Charles' lap. "I don't mean to." Charles shakes, stops. Starts all over again, his fingers threading through Erik's hair. Erik's mother used to do that, just like this - "What," Charles says, stopping mid-stroke.

Erik opens his eyes. "Nothing. Just something I thought was lost." He chases after the memory, but it's gone. "It's not important."

"Erik."

"No, I." He reaches out and stills Charles' hand, traces his thumb against the lines on Charles' palm. "I want us to - I'd like."

"Oh," Charles says, a strange sort of glaze in his eyes. "We don't have to - well, we can't. But other than that, we really don't have to. I've been engaged enough, haven't you?"

"Yes but, other people -"

"We're hardly other people. Who have you been listening to?"

"No, but I want to. Wait, I bought something." He reaches under the bed and searches for the box he'd slid under there for safekeeping, drops it into Charles' lap. "Constance gave me an advance and there are places where you can get it shipped over. Open it."

Charles turns the box over in his hands. He smiles. "A gift, Erik. You shouldn't have."

"No, open." The muzzle is soft brown leather, not nearly strong enough until Erik asked them to line it with silver foil, and the buckles that fit around the back of his head already were. "It's enough silver that I won't be able to turn," he tells Charles, who only stares at it with his lips pressed tightly together. "It's so I won't hurt you."

"I know what it's for. I - thank you, Erik." He puts the muzzles aside carefully, with hands that are shaking slightly. When Erik reaches for it his palm lands on Erik's chest, and he says, "But I like kissing you. I won't be able to kiss you this way."

"Yes, but then we could do the other stuff," Erik says. "And you bit me that one time."

"So I'd have to get a muzzle too, to stop me from doing that."

Erik frowns. He hadn't thought of that.

"It would be immensely awkward, I should think. Both of us unable to even communicate." His smile returns to his face, bright and convincing. "How about we use this as a last resort." Charles kisses him on the side of his mouth, and Erik shivers at the contact. "But I appreciate that you thought of me." He pulls away. "I should go. I only came to see how you were."

"Okay," Erik says.

Before he leaves he kisses Erik once more, on the shoulder this time, and says, "You're sleeping on the bed now."

"Yeah. It's softer."

"It usually is." His hand lingers on the back of Erik's neck, and then he's gone.

-

Charles is in his bedroom trying to figure out what he's going to wear when Raven leans against the doorframe and smirks at him. "Do we have a date tonight?"

Charles says, "Emma should stop whining. It is not going to stop."

"That's what I told her." Raven crosses her arms and tilts her head. "But you do know how she gets." She stubs a booted toe in the carpeting. "She's getting on my case about Hank as well."

"Ah, Hank," Charles starts.

"Oh, not you as well. I'll make you a deal, Charles," she says, walking into the room and shaking her head when Charles puts on a gray pullover. "You get off my case about my human and I'll get off yours about your pet wolf."

"You were never on my case." Raven shoves a blue v-necked t-shirt at his chest. "Really?"

"It brings out the color of your eyes. And yes, I have been supportive, haven't I? You might want to show the same consideration."

"It's hardly the same."

"Yeah, because no-one cares how many humans I date except maybe Emma."

"I'm merely trying to -"

"You do realize I'm almost a century old, don't you? I'm not a child anymore." She puts the back of her hand to her forehead dramatically. "I won't swoon at the sight of the dashing Mr. Xavier anymore."

"As I recall," Charles says, pulling off his sweater so he can put on the t-shirt instead, "You were always a brat and unless you consider throwing tantrums swooning, I don't recall much of that, either."

"You always made it so easy. It's a wonder you haven't been staked yet." She sighs. "Where are you headed anyway? Hank and I are going to watch the new Colin Farrell movie."

"The movies as well."

"You're taking him to the movies? Everyone will be there, you know this."

"Don't be silly, I'm not stupid, despite what Emma insists. We're going to Jamestown."

"Oh, you're so brave, Charles. You and your interspecies relationship. Stand tall and proud." Raven punches him on the arm, her lip curling up into a smirk.

"It's not as if we'll be holding hands in public anyway," Charles grouses. "Maybe a few decades from now."

"Wow, you're advocating for the future. Must be love." She turns to leave, throwing an airy, "Enjoy your date with your pet wolf," over her shoulder.

Charles says to her retreating back, "Thanks for the fashion advice."

Raven stops and spins around, throws her arms around him. "I don't know what to do with you, sometimes."

Charles wraps his own arms around her waist. "Patience is good. I'm old."

"And spoilt."

"That as well. I don't want to see you hurt."

"It always hurts, Charles," Raven says. "It's why we do it."

Janice just glares at him when he picks Erik up. He waves cheerfully in return, and she slams the front door behind her. "She's not warming up to you," Erik says, sounding disappointed.

"They usually don't. Come along," he grabs Erik's hand and pulls him to the car. "We don't want to be late." In the car, he leans over and drops a kiss on Erik's lips. "You've been wearing this turtleneck a lot," he says.

"No, it's a different one. I have a few. I like the color."

"Ah," Charles says, putting the car into gear and pulling out of the driveway. The drive isn't that far, and they make it earlier than Charles expected, even if he does have to put up with Erik messing with the radio station and then settling on metal music that he turns up loudly. The music seems to soothe him though, and he keeps sneaking glances at Charles and smiling.

When Charles parks the car in the movie lot and turns off the engine Erik says casually, "We should go back to your house, after the movie."

"Won't Janice expect you back early?"

"Yeah, but not that early. Tomorrow's Saturday."

"How about we just skip the movie, and go somewhere right now." But Erik's reaction is one of vague disappointment, so Charles adds, "I'm kidding. I'm told there's a new Colin Farrell movie that everyone's dying to see."

Erik makes a face. "Angel said it was stupid."

"Yes, but we're watching it anyway."

Charles leans forward and kisses Erik once again, and again, until finally Erik forcibly distentangles himself. "Movie," he says shakily. "This, later."

Charles buys the tickets, and at the concession stand he gets popcorn and a soft drink for Erik. The counter girl smiles at him, so he chats with her for a while until someone clears their throat behind him. "I'll see you around," Charles says, winking at her.

Erik is leaning against a nearby wall, scowling. "I don't like it when you do that," he mutters.

"Do what?" Charles says distractedly.

He holds out the popcorn and drink but Erik only jams his hands into his pockets and jerks his head in the direction of the counter.

"What, her? I was just being friendly, Erik. Please take the popcorn, the smell is making me ill."

Erik shakes his head and his jaw tightens. "I don't like it," he says, and Charles finally starts paying attention.

"She doesn't matter, Erik."

"Then stop doing it."

"If you wish." Erik finally relieves him of the popcorn and drink, but his face is still drawn into an unhappy frown. "Come along, I don't want us to be late."

Erik is in a considerably better mood after the movie, as terrible as it is. "You don't secretly look like that, do you," he asks, as they're driving back.

"Oh, if only. So you're coming in?"

"Yes," Erik says decisively.

They enter through the back door, and pass by Emma, sitting at the kitchen counter with a cup in her hands. She narrows her eyes but doesn't speak as Charles leads Erik up into his bedroom. Once they're inside, Erik turns and pushes Charles against the door. His lips are hot, and wild, and by the time they finally get around to stumbling to the bed half his clothes are off and Charles is scrambling wildly for some semblance of control. "Stop," he says, and Erik raises himself off him, but only to pull his turtleneck over his head. "Erik," Charles begins, but he halts at the gleam in Erik's eye. "Okay," he says, reaching out to cup Erik's cheek. "Okay. Take off the rest of your clothes."

Somehow, in one moment to the next, they're both naked and Erik is drawing his tongue across his palm as he kneels between Charles' legs. Like this he's magnificent, not the least bit a pup, for all that he is entirely that. Charles jerks as his fingers press against him; he wants to say, I'm not human, there's no need for prepping, love, nothing bleeds that won't heal, except that it's Erik and this is unmarked territory so for all Charles knows this might very well kill him. Prepping doesn't seem to be Erik's intention though, Charles almost yowls as his fingers twist, gaining entrance in increments that are almost impossible to bear. Erik leans over him and lowers his eyes, his gaze rapt with fascination.

"Where on earth did you learn how to do this, surely not by practice."

"Angel gave me a book," Erik says, in seriousness, and it's bizarre enough that it just might be true.

"Good book," Charles replies, or gasps. He turns his head into the pillow. This is not quite how he'd pictured this going at all.

Enough. He slides his leg up Erik's side for leverage and shoves upwards, spinning them around so he ends up with his knees on the bed, straddling Erik's stomach. Erik growls, but Charles grabs his hair and tilts his head back, kisses him until he's silent and whimpering. It becomes too much far too fast, Charles has to pull away just to stop instinct from taking over, and from the way Erik tightens his jaw as if he could stop himself from biting down through sheer force of will, Erik's having the same problem as well. "This is going about as well as I expected." Charles has to chuckle at just how ridiculous it is.

"If you'd let me do it my way," Erik says, his smile dizzy with easy conviction, and now he looks sixteen. The perfect age. Charles would keep him like this forever, maturing in mind only but always flush with youth and blood.

"No," Charles says, shuddering at the thought of the muzzle, ugly and brutal. That Erik even bought it, is willing to slip it on against the nature of everything he knows about the wolves and how they behave - he puts his fingers to Erik's lips, slides them inside along too sharp teeth. "I will not. I would rather allow you to kill me."

Erik pushes his fingers out by turning his head away. "I would rather you not. Dead doesn't smell nice."

"Right. Self-control then. You're a pup and I, as the events of the past months have shown, have absolutely no willpower. I anticipate this ending well."

In the end, Erik just turns onto his front and clenches at the sheets with sharpened nails. For all his earlier confidence, he trembles when Charles lays a wet stripe of kisses down his back, calls out his name when Charles spreads his cheeks carefully apart and slides his tongue wetly inside. "Oh, no. Not - I can't."

Charles rests his hands lightly on his waist to hold him still, opens him up slowly until he's quivering and none of the sounds he makes are remotely human anymore. He could do this forever, just this, but at some point Erik starts blinking dazedly, his mouth forming words that seem to take an effort to get right. "I want," he finally gets out, and Charles hasn't wanted anything more in his endless lifetime as well. This is enough, perhaps. Just this, sliding into Erik as he shakes and rears back to meet him, so their bodies are pressed together, and Charles had planned on going slow, but all of that is forgotten as he drives himself in, and Erik jerks, his cock hard and leaking when Charles reaches forward to palm it. The mere touch seems to be enough, Erik gives a hoarse, quiet howl and comes, hot and pulsing, and the sheer overwhelming scent of it makes Charles come too, biting his own lips hard enough to bleed as the pleasure whirls through him, as every single part of his body screams for him to bite down, to feed on what's his.

It passes, eventually, and he collapses bonelessly on top of Erik as Erik drops back down onto the bed. He's laughing quietly as Charles kisses the back of his neck. "What?"

"I didn't." His palm turns upwards and Charles reaches out blindly, lacing their fingers together.

"No, I told you. I trust you." Erik nods his head, his eyes slipping closed.

It's only afterwards, drifting away to sleep, that Charles thinks to wonder about how strange this all is. As diametrically opposed species, they should repulse one another. This Charles has always known, and braced himself for even as he chased, but nothing could have prepared him for this. "Erik, what are you," Charles mumbles against fevered skin, his mind already losing most of his thoughts. Erik merely sighs and shifts closer still.


	8. Interlude

 

Charles met Sebastian when he was on the cusp of his first century, and Seb was just a young pup. Even back then though, back when Charles was more concerned with feeding and rampaging against his family, Seb was different. He was the first wolf that Charles had met that didn't seem to care about the werewolf-vampire divide. He slid into a chair once, when Charles was in a club and contemplating the waitress for dinner, stuck out his hand.

"Sebastian," he said. "Sebastian Shaw."

"I know who you are," Charles said primly. "Or what you are. You are in the wrong place, my friend."

"No I'm not," He grinned easily. "And I'm not your friend. Not yet, anyway."

Seb liked beer, and jazz, and, inexplicably, Emma, not that she would give him the time of day. Sebastian did try his best, in the few times they met, until she threatened to rip out his heart if he spoke to her again, and when Seb looked to Charles all he said was, "She means it."

Seb invited him over to his home, two weeks after they'd met. Charles stood warily at the entrance, asked, "Is this a trap."

"If it were a trap, would I tell you? You might as well come in. Or not," he continued, when Charles remained where he was. "I'm the one that invited you in, remember."

"That you did," Charles said, and stepped through.

Seb lived alone, odd for a wolf and even odder for one so young. "I like my privacy," he said, handing Charles a glass of whiskey laced with blood. Charles sniffed at it. It smelt human. When he took a sip, Seb grinned broadly, and said, "There's more if you'd like," and Charles held out the glass wordlessly.

Seb was obsessed with bloodlines. Bloodlines in general and more specifically Charles', when Charles was sated and flush with blood and alcohol and close to sleep. "Pureborns," he liked to say, his fingers against Charles' throat. "A rare and dying breed."

"What about wolves," Charles asked sometimes, only vaguely curious.

"Breeding's never been our problem. We have other weaknesses."

"You're still a pup, yet. Find me a girl, Seb. Or a boy. Stop this." It never bothered Charles, the way it probably should have, all of Seb's questions. Seb was a wolf, and dreadfully young, and Charles always chalked it up to youthful curiousity or the peculiarities of their species. It wasn't as if he had any basis for comparison. Mostly though, Seb was dangerous, and Charles had never been near true danger, not once in his relatively young life.

"Do you know what we are, Charles," Seb asked once. They were in a hotel room and Charles had a girl in his arms so he was barely listening.

"God's mistakes?" Charles replied distractedly, wrapping a wavy blonde lock around a finger.

"Surely you don't still believe in all that rubbish."

"Hardly. I do wish you'd stop asking me questions you already know the answer to."

Seb leaned close, enough that the girl started and hid her face into Charles' neck. "Relax, sweetheart. I'm not the one that's going to hurt you." His gaze slipped over to Charles. "I do love how they trust you."

"It's a gift. And are you going to start on about genetics again. Because you're starting to bore."

"I don't believe I've bored you for even a second, Charles," Seb said. "Why her?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why this one. Why not any other girl or boy in the place. Doesn't their blood taste the same."

"No, of course it doesn't." He cut a thin sliver of flesh on the girl's cheek with his nail, put the bloodied finger to his mouth. "Sweeter," he said. "Different."

"Ah," Seb said, his thumb skittering over the inside of Charles' arm. "You should give me your blood."

"Whatever would I want to do that for," Charles asked.

"Because I'm asking."

"All right. Do you plan to drink it?" The girl lifted her head, blinked sleepily at Charles. "I don't like him," she said. "Make him go away."

"You're being rude," Seb told her. He buried his hand in her thick hair and snapped her head back until she whimpered.

"Don't hurt her yet," Charles said idly. "I'm not done." He paused. "And you can have it if you want it. For whatever it's worth."


	9. I guess it never occurred to you that you might actually have to bleed to pull off this little coup.

Erik's walking home, passing by the woods, and it's only because he catches the scent that he pauses, holds his head up and sniffs. _Wolf dark fire_ , and he stumbles back, his throat closing up as bile fills his mouth. There's a horn, the high squeal of breaks, and then he's flying, and he doesn't imagine he's ever going to fall, _can't shift not when he's here not when he's here -_

He lands on his hands and knees, and at first he's fine, just dizzy and disoriented, until he tries to stand up, and falls back down again. A face appears above him, worried and hard. "Shit, you just ran right into the middle of the road, son. Are you okay."

Erik wants to say, "Everything's fine, sir," but the words won't come out, so he just lays there and breathes, and hopes it will stop hurting after a while.

There's lights after that, red and blinking, and someone shining another light into his eyes. "You're okay, I promise." Someone else. "We're going to take you to the hospital. What's your name? Can you speak? Don't worry, you'll be fine."

He'll be fine. Okay, okay. He closes his eyes, and when he opens them people are yelling urgently around him.

Close, and open again, and he's alone in a room. Erik sits up and pulls needles out of his arms, starts screaming. The door opens and Erik bares his teeth at him, but the person says, "Erik, stop," and he does. He blinks at Angel's dad, in a white coat and holding on to a clipboard. "Calm down, son," he says, as he walks over and puts his palm over the back of Erik's neck. Erik bows his head and trembles and clutches the edges of the bed with his fingers. "I called Janice. She's coming over to take you home. You're -" he pauses, and he sounds surprised. "You're perfectly fine. Not a scratch on you. Gave the ER staff quite the scare, there was so much blood."

Erik dares to glance up at him, but he just looks confused. He shrugs, though. "Guess it must be youth. My age, takes at least twice as long to heal." His hand presses down harder, and Erik sighs. "You rest, okay, until she gets here. No-one will disturb you, I promise." He passes Erik a glass of water and tells him firmly, "Drink." His hand brushes across Erik's brow, and Erik flinches. Something crosses the man's face, but it's only for a split second, and then he's calm and authoritative again, telling Erik to lie back and get some rest.

Erik doesn't think he will sleep, but he must have, because when he opens his eyes again Charles is leaning over him, his hand on Erik's chest. "Hey," Charles says softly.

"I got hit by a car," Erik tells him.

"Yes, I know." He has a small smile on his face, but it fades away, and he bends down to kiss him. "I worry about you," he says, when he pulls away, too soon. "I forget you wolves are not that fragile." His thumb slides across Erik's cheekbone. "I should go. Janice is on her way. She will not be pleased."

-

Janice doesn't let Charles see Erik for three days after he's released from the hospital, but finally Erik calls him and tells him he's free to come over. He drags Charles upstairs and into his bed, tangling them both under the sheets to trade hot, languid kisses until Erik grabs his wrists and pushes him onto his back, drawing his arms up high above his head. Erik's teeth are too sharp and there are too many of them when he smiles, and his knees are somehow between Charles' legs, cock hard and heavy against his thigh.

"Hello there," Charles says, twisting his wrists slightly, not enough to break free, but enough so that Erik tightens his grip. Erik shimmies against him, and Charles laughs under his breath. "Really," he mutters, but Erik kisses him again, transfers both of Charles' wrists to the one so his free hand can come down between Charles' legs, spread them even further apart. "So I see being hit by that car hasn't changed anything."

"Hm? I'm fine."

"I can see that. Ahhh -" He kicks out as Erik's nails scrape slightly against him.

"I want. Charles, I want-"

"I'm well aware of what you want. Release me." Erik does so immediately, face flickering between shame and disappointment as he pulls away. Charles sighs and kisses him briefly, says, "Just don't bite down," before he turns over and braces himself on his elbows.

"I don't -"

"Before I change my mind."

Erik's hand on the base of his spine is tentative, barely there. "I like your skin," he says, his voice slightly awed. "You have no scars."

"Erik."

"Turn over." Erik pauses. "Please." Charles complies, faintly surprised. Erik nuzzles at his belly, open-mouthed, and Charles gasps, his cock hard against Erik's chest. Erik wraps his fingers around it and Charles gasps again, despite himself. His mouth is hot when he swallows Charles down, his gaze fixed on Charles as he grabs the sheets in his fists. "You're doing - that's," even though Erik doesn't seem to need encouragement or guidance beyond watching Charles' reaction. When Erik starts kissing along the length of it he says, voice strangled, "Stop, stop."

"What," Erik says, looking startled. "Am I doing it wrong?"

"Are you -" Charles puts his fists to his eyes and groans. "You're doing it perfectly," he grinds out. "It's just the night is too young and I doubt we're at that stage where it's appropriate for me to, ah. Finish on your face."

Erik seems to consider this. "Oh," he says finally. "You could." When Charles moves his hands enough to peer up at him he adds, "I don't mind."

"Not that I don't appreciate the sentiment, but I," but Erik's tongue flicks out once again and licks his tip as his finger presses against him, and that's it, Charles is coming, hard and hot, and Erik just laughs, and doesn't bother wiping at his face until Charles throws him a t-shirt to do so.

Erik kneels between his legs and Charles hooks one knee around his waist to draw him close, says, "I can take it. Whatever you have to give." His fingers feel slippery around Erik's cock, and Erik _pulses_ , Charles can feel it. He lays kisses alone the line of Erik's jaw, and after a while he starts to thrust into Charles' fist and oh yes, he's ready, so slick that he slides in smoothly enough.

He can see it, the exact moment when Erik stops being an uncertain boy and becomes one of his kind, eyes darkening with intent and fingers gripped on Charles' shoulders to hold him down, as if Charles were planning on going anywhere. Were capable of going anywhere. And he wasn't lying, he can take it, but it burns in a particular way and he hisses, but Erik only bears down harder, and Charles can feel every inch of him and - " _Ah._ "

Erik stops abruptly, and Charles bites down a scream, "Erik, you can't just -" but it's not - it's because - and he's babbling, he's certain he's babbling, trying to get the fuck away and then fighting that impulse and also desperately needing more and at some point his teeth are out and on Erik's pulse and he thinks dizzily, he can't take it anymore, and Erik's shaking, and growling, and then he's done, collapsing on top of Charles. Charles can't move, he's limp and boneless, like a popped balloon, like he just passed out and came back again, which hasn't happened to him during sex since ever, and -

"Oh, God," he says, and he starts to laugh. Erik says drowsily, licking at his earlobe, "Are you okay?" and Charles has to laugh again.

Erik finally kicks him out, with a hurried kiss and a muttered, "Sorry, Janice will be home soon," and when Charles returns home Emma is sitting in the study with Armando. Charles enters the room, and even though Emma deliberately crosses her legs there's no sniffing, no by now perfunctory remark about Charles' preferred choice of company, as sure a sign as any that something is deeply wrong. Charles turns his attention to Armando, the flushed euphoria from being with Erik fading away as he motions for Charles to take a seat. This is, apparently, going to be a long night.

"So wait," Charles says, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Sebastian Shaw?"

"Yes, you remember. You knew him."

"Passingly," Charles says.

Emma examines her fingernails. "Surely not just passingly, Charles. He never did know his place. Thought he was, what's the word?" She smiles, all brittle bone. "Special."

"Yes," Armando says. "But to experiment on your own kind. And Erik -" His beautiful Erik. "Seems a bit excessive, to kill a whole pack just to keep one pup."

Charles grips the armrests of his chair as Armando watches him carefully. There's a warning in his gaze, a silent request that Charles not do what he usually does in situations such as these. Charles centers himself enough to ask, "And there's more."

"The part that actually matters, darling," Emma says, her eyes full black with fury. "It wasn't just his own kind he was torturing for kicks. He experimented on kin. I say we teach this pack a lesson or two."

"Oh, fantastic idea. I'll get my silver bullets, shall I. Who shall we leave your Prada gowns to -"

"Don't think we can't take them, Charles."

"The twenty of us versus the twenty of them, half of them children. I'm certain it will be a long and glorious war." Emma looks, briefly, as if she wants to argue, but eventually she just puts on her faintly superior face. It's not even as if Charles has to sell the point. The time for war is long past, and all the centuries of animosity and hate have brought them nothing but diminishing numbers which will never be replenished. Which is why for Sebastian to do what he did -

"I'm going to talk to her," Charles says.

"Who, Janice?" Armando looks startled.

"She did rescue the pup. Perhaps she can explain to us why Sebastian chose to break a century old peace treaty."

Janice is chopping wood at the back of the house when Charles shows up after school the next day. "He's not here," she says without looking up, her axe coming up high and swinging downwards, overly viciously, Charles thinks. He imagines she's picturing his head on that stump.

"I'm not here to talk to him," Charles says. He's well aware of where Erik is. Had been told in quiet, nervously excited tones, _dinner with the pack and Janos' family_ , and Charles isn't self-involved enough not to notice that Erik obviously hasn't had much experience with this level of normalcy. It all makes a horrifying sense now, and he wants to go backward, erase all of the mistakes that he's surely made in his interactions with him. In his willingness to take and not question the way Erik gives. It's in his nature, everyone yields around him, but then Erik's a wolf, and they have a tendency to be rather more like Janice in general.

"We have nothing to say to each other." Every line in her body radiates muted rage.

"It's about Sebastian."

At that, her head snaps up. She eyes him suspiciously for a while before she shrugs, a measure of defeat. "So you know."

"I do."

"The council -"

"They don't have to know," Charles cuts in, wanting this at least out of the way. "None of us are in any position to start another war, but I feel some of us are stubborn enough to insist on one regardless. But Sebastian."

"I don't know what he was up to, except that it was against everything -" Her lips tighten as if she's holding back an immense horror, but then she straightens and throws her shoulders back. "We burned it all to the ground. I just couldn't bear it."

"And Erik? What did he want with Erik?" Except for what Armando told him, salvaged from whatever he could dig out. The fire destroyed almost everything, but still Erik's name featured prominently in whatever it was he was doing.

"Besides wiping out his entire line, I don't know." She crosses her arms, as if daring him to challenge her. "But what do you care."

"Of course I care. I meant what I said when I told you I never intended to hurt him. How long did - how long did Sebastian have him?"

"Long enough that he's not ready for the likes of you."

Charles has to stop himself from flinching. "So what would you have me do now."

"As if you've ever done anything that didn't suit you, Xavier." She's not wrong. Even now he's considering how he might yet fix this so he can get what he want. Namely Erik. Erik with the shy smile and the nervous hands and the damage that, deep down, Charles had always known was there. Except now Charles is somewhat aware of the extent of it, and any decision he makes from now on will reflect directly upon himself.

"I am what I am," Charles tells her finally. "I can't change that. Would you rather I left him alone."

"What, now? After he's imprinted on you? Fuck you."

"I wasn't aware you could mate for life at that age. Or any age for that matter, nowadays."

"No, but he trusts you, and he's not had - I tried to warn you."

"Yes, but I thought you were just being difficult. You tend to be difficult, Janice."

Janice sighs, and says with great exhaustion, "You do what you must. I can't stop you."

As he turns to walk away, a thought hits him. "Is he alive?"

"We burnt the facility down with him in it."

"But you saw him dead."

Her next words are soft, almost hushed. "No, no I didn't."

-

Charles pulls away when Erik tries to kiss him and leads him into the kitchen, sits him down onto a chair. His eyes are strange and bright when he sinks to his knees, puts his head on Erik's thigh. Erik laughs and runs his fingers through Charles' thick hair, but when Charles looks up again he's not smiling. "Erik," he says, his voice strange.

There's an expression on his face - not the way Janice looked at him when Erik didn't know how to do things or refused to leave his room, or when he got angry and tried to rip her apart just for accidentally touching him, she was always just frowning at him and telling him, _No._ \- but the way the other wolves always looked at him when they came to visit, the ones he didn't like as much as he liked Janice so he would just snarl and slam his room door shut, and once he heard someone say, before he hid himself under the bed, "Feral." Janice would come up to the room afterwards, and sit down cross-legged and tell him that they were the elders, and that they were _well intentioned._

"I don't like them," he said once, when enough time had passed that he could crawl out from under the bed. She ruffled his hair ."They mean well. They're just old. But you don't worry about them, okay. You just be yourself."

But it's not possible. Charles can't know, _shame loss pain no._ "Please don't, please," as Charles stands and kisses him on his forehead, his closed eyes, his cheeks. It feels like breath rather than touch, and Erik turns into it but he doesn't want to. No-one's supposed to know, especially not Charles. Charles is different and new and special and he is not supposed to know. "I don't want you to feel sorry for me," he snarls, snapping away from Charles.

"Erik," Charles says, "I don't know if Janice told you, but my people are notorious for being incapable of such things as compassion, or pity, or even kindness most of the time." His eyes slip close, and he sighs. "Amazingly enough, I've still somehow managed to rack up many lifetimes of guilt. Mistakes I have made."

"Like me?" He wants to die. He wants to curl up into a ball and dig into the earth and never come out again. He wants to tear Charles apart, inch by inch until he stops staring at him like this. Erik stands and blindly shoves at him, runs to the door. Charles is there before him, blocks the doorway and holds up his hands. "Get out of my way," Erik growls.

"No, I won't. Erik just talk to me, please."

"Get out of my way," Erik repeats. Calm, just like he was taught. Legs apart, teeth bared.

Charles' eyes widen, and he slowly steps away. "Don't go," he says softly, when Erik brushes past him, but Erik just pretends he doesn't hear.

-

The council meeting is going about as well as can be expected. Everyone's up in arms over the killer, and what it means to both their species. Accusations abound, because they're nothing if not predictable and it doesn't take much for them to be at each other's throats. Charles ignores most of it, until at one point Jean says, "What about that new wolf, the one that you people refuse to talk about."

There's an immediate uproar, quietened down only by Janice standing up and banging her cup against the table. "That wolf is my ward, and my responsibility. He's a pup, and far less of a killer than any of you." She shoots a look at Charles that outwardly shouts disdain, but is also a faint warning: Say something, or I will.

Charles doesn't appreciate the threat, but it is Erik. He clears his throat. "Let's not throw around unfounded accusations, shall we. I understand tensions are running high, but we should rise above."

"What we should do is demand answers," Jean interjects. "Where is he from, what is he -"

"Jean," Charles says, quietly. Jean stops and stares at him, eyes wide. Charles stares calmly back, until she pales and sits down abruptly. "As I said," Charles continues, as if she hadn't interrupted at all. "Of course, as the only new element to this town, it is a possibility that he's involved -" He holds up his hand to keep everyone silent, "But if Janice is willing to answer some of my questions in private to eliminate him, I believe we can consider the matter settled and focus on finding the real monster out there."

Janice's jaw snaps shut and she glares mutinously at him, but when he offers her a smile and a raised brow she only says, "Of course. Anything to clear the boy's name."

"Right, well then. That's settled. Shall we move on."

Armando whispers in his ear, as the conversation drifts to territorial divides for the upcoming winter, "You don't truly believe she'll tell you anything about the kid, do you?"

"No, but it's worth a try."

"This isn't over, I hope you know that." Emma says. Her gaze is thoughtful as she scans the crowd.

"And whose side are you on, Emma."

"Mine, Charles," Emma replies airily. "I am always on my side. Don't be foolish enough to mistake my silence as compliance or approval of your latest indiscretion. But if the alternative is you or," she shudders, "someone like Jean. I'll take you."

"What about you, then."

"Please. If I wanted to head this silly little council I would."

Charles turns his attention back to Armando, who gives him the briefest of head shakes. He's not wrong, it isn't over. A lone wolf preying on humans is a danger to them all. Eventually someone will overcome their disbelief in all things supernatural and convince others to do the same, and it always ends in blood. Charles isn't ready to move on, not just yet, nor is he ready to fight another war, either with humanity or the wolves.

"What if it is him though," Armando murmurs, his voice as neutral as ever.

"It's not."

"Do you know this for a fact."

"Yes," Charles says. Not Erik. Not _his_ Erik. "I do."

-

Janice puts the back of her hand to Erik's forehead and asks, "Are you ill?"

Erik jerks away, mutters, "I thought we don't get sick."

"Yes, but you're -" She doesn't finish her sentence, instead she just gives him his hot chocolate and says, "You want to tell me why you don't want to go to school?"

"No," Erik says, curling around the cup for warmth.

"It doesn't have anything to do with that - vampire, does it." There's a scowl on her face, a quiet sort of fury.

"It's not him," Erik says softly.

"Okay. I have to go to work. You'll be coming in later, right?"

"Maybe," Erik shrugs. "Maybe. Yeah, I guess so." Charles probably won't show up at the grill.

When she's gone Erik strips down, tosses his clothes into the laundry. He's shifted by the time he hits the back yard, bounding into the nearby woods. Janice will be angry if she finds out he was hunting alone, so he keeps track of the sun's progress across the sky as he aimlessly chases rabbits, until he's tired and lolls under a nearby tree. A rabbit wanders close, ears pricked and eyes bright. Erik snaps at it and its startled enough to be caught. He shakes it half-heartedly in his jaws, but then he lets it go.

By the time he makes it home he has just enough time to grab leftovers from the fridge, shower and change and walk to work. Janice is wiping down the bar when he pokes his head in the door. "You're late," she gruffs.

"Sorry." He walks in and vaults over the bar to take the rag from her.

"You don't mind him," she says. "You were always gonna deserve better."

But Erik doesn't want better. Just Charles, but the way it was, so he only says, "Okay," and starts polishing glasses.

"You remind me so much of her sometimes," Janice says. Erik doesn't react, because Janice never talks about his mother. She squeezes his hand. "I want to tell you someday, about her. What she meant to me. How strong she was. Just like you."

"They died," Erik says. "I couldn't stop them, I couldn't stop him. I should have -"

Janice takes the glass gently from him, his hands are shaking too hard. "Done nothing except what you did." Her voice is rough, almost angry. "She would have been proud, son."

Something dark and bruised rises inside of Erik. He says, "He should pay. I want him to pay." Dead, and torn to pieces just like the rest of his family.

Janice ruffles his hair. "Try to finish high school first, okay? Then we can talk about revenge."

-

He's halfway to Moira's office when one of the deputies interrupts his stride. "Hey kid," he says. "Looking for the Sheriff? Think she's down at the morgue, but you can wait for her in her office if you'd like."

"Sure, thanks." In Moira's office he waits until no-one's paying any attention to him before he starts looking for the case files for the recent murders. They're not hard to find, the town doesn't get a lot of murders, considering. He's peering at the coroner's report when the door opens.

"Found anything interesting," Moira asks.

"Perhaps." He smiles distractedly at her before going back to reading, as she sits down behind her desk. "Did Armando talk to you?"

"About the boy you've been seeing? Yes." There's a faint expression of concern on her face. "I would have looked into him regardless, him and his aunt are the only newcomers to the town. It surely can't be a coincidence that -"

"He's a pup, and Janice is. Janice. She's lived here half her life. I don't think she returned specifically to," he nods at the photos, "do this. I don't even know what could possibly have done this."

"A boy that was experimented on by a madman?"

"Don't. Leave him alone, Moira. That's not a request."

"You think I'd forget for a second that Charles Xavier doesn't ask for what he wants?" Moira says, her voice turned flat and hard.

Charles smiles grimly. "It's not that. You're merely wasting your time. He's harmless. I want you to take my assurance of that."

"And what if you're wrong?"

"Then -" He can't bear thinking about it. Even if Erik won't speak to him again, and from the look on his face when he ran out of Charles' house, that might very well be the case. "Then he will be mine to deal with."

"And the safety of the citizens of this town? I know you don't care, Charles -"

"I care."

"No, you don't." She holds up her hand as he starts to interrupt. "I'll steer clear for now. But you should know that Emma doesn't feel the same way as you do, and you might want to have a conversation with her before you come and threaten me. Now are we done here?"

He always did admire her bravery. "We're done." He rises to leave, but at the door he turns back to say, "It's always a pleasure, Sheriff."

She only returns to her work.

-

"Hey, you didn't show up for school today," Angel says when she opens the front door, but then she must notice the expression on his face, because she immediately adds, "I'll get you a bowl of soup."

She sits and smokes a cigarette while he eats and mutters under her breath at random, _fucking Xavier_ and _would kill him with my bare hands if the council wouldn't disapprove_ and it makes Erik feel better, but not by much. When he's done with the soup she says, "I hope someone shoves an UV ray up his ass. But ugh. He might actually enjoy that."

Erik suppresses a giggle. "The soup was really good. It's the same as Janice's."

"Yeah it's an old family recipe apparently." She makes a face. "I'm pretty sure they just dump a lot of blood into it and lie about it so we can pretend we're civilized or some shit like that. You only like it because you've not been forced to eat it every day of your life."

"Where's your parents," Erik asks. He hadn't noticed when he showed up, he was too upset, but the house is entirely empty.

"Council meeting I think. They've all got their panties in a bunch about that killer so it's an emergency meeting or something." She waves her hand around, "I don't know, they're just gonna be late that's all."

Erik bites his lip. "Was there another one?"

"Two more by the river. Everyone's kinda freaked. They're talking about curfew." She shudders and hugs her sweater tighter around herself. "Mom said maybe we shouldn't run for a while, just in case."

"But I need to run," he says. The thought of being shut in, of being unable to shift and run wild and free with the pack - Erik's throat starts closing up, his vision blurring around the edges.

"Hey," Angel says, sharp, and he snaps back into focus, blinking at her. She squeezes his arm, says, "It'll only be for a while. I promise. They'll catch the guy, everything will go back to normal. Besides," she grimaces and rolls her eyes. "Things might be a little awkward now. Janos and I broke up."

"Oh," Erik says, and bites his lip. He's not sure what to say in response, so he keeps silent.

"He's an immature jerk. I should have seen that." She sighs mournfully and adds, "Really super hot though. I guess we're both single now, eh?"

"No, I." He's less certain now. So maybe Charles knows, it might not be so bad. Erik can just tell him to not talk about it, to pretend he doesn't know, and to stop looking at him in that way. "I don't know," he says again, miserably.

"I wanna give you advice, sweetcheeks," Angel says. "But you know he's a vampire. I don't know him much beyond that and he's," she frowns. "Standing right outside the front door." Erik sucks in a breath, sharp. "I can tell him to fuck off," Angel says, but then she says, "Or not. I'll wait in the living room for you, okay."

Erik draws in another deep breath. "Do you," he pauses. "I don't think he's a bad person. Besides being a vampire, I mean."

Angel's gaze is sharp when she says, "I'll take your word for it." She squeezes his arm again and rises from the table. "Right in the living room. Just holler."

Charles looks contrite when Erik opens the door, and Erik carefully steps out and draws the door closed behind him. Charles asks, "You want to go for a walk."

"No," Erik mutters, but when Charles starts walking he follows anyway. Angel lives further away from the woods than most wolves, but eventually all the houses fade away and they're headed towards the trees. Erik shoves his hands inside his pockets and won't glance at Charles, but he can feel Charles shooting him worried looks. After a while he just stops and snaps, "I wish you would stop looking at me like that."

"Sorry," Charles says. He puts his hand over Erik's heart, and Erik shivers at the touch, cold even through the thick material of his sweater. "How do you want me to look at you?"

"I don't know. Like you used to."

"Nothing has changed. I still -" His voice deepens. "You shouldn't have just run off like that."

"I didn't like the way you were looking at me."

"Yes, you said that." He lets his hand fall to his side. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, Erik. But I can't pretend that what happened to you didn't happen."

"Why," Erik says. "You were fine before you knew. And now." He feels his cheeks reddening, and he turns abruptly, starts walking once again. Charles grabs him by the arm and pushes him gently, back into a tree.

"And now," he says. "Nothing has changed. Erik, look at me."

"No." He scowls furiously, but Charles only cups his chin with his fingers until Erik raises his head. "You can kiss me if you want," he says, uncertainly.

Charles smile is slow. "Can I?"

"Maybe. Okay."

Charles smiles even wider and pulls Erik's head down, and Erik closes his eyes, but then a scent, sharp and distinct and familiar hits him. He staggers back and snaps open his eyes, and there's a flash at the corner of his vision. Just a flash and then it's gone, but he's falling and he can't stop it. Charles' surprised look is the last thing he sees before his head hits the ground and then nothing, nothing at all.

-

When Charles wakes up he's strapped to a table. He tries to move his wrists but they burn when he turns them, and he bares his teeth and hisses at the sting. "Silver," Sebastian says brightly, leaning over him. "Forged with wolf blood, so I don't even have to use a lot. Quite ingenious, if I do say so myself. But then I had to learn through trail and error. You guys kept trying to escape. It grew quite tiresome after a while."

"Where's Erik." He tries to look around, but he can't move his head either, and his senses are sluggish and unresponsive because of the silver. "If you hurt him I promise I will -"

"I have done no such thing," Sebastian says, and his smile is as crazy as it was a century ago. "I have to say," he continues conversationally, "I could not have planned this better myself. Imagine my surprise when I found out that not only did Janice bring dear Erik home with her, but that he and one of only two pureborns in the town - what a very unexpected delight." Sebastian pauses to smile even wider. "You always did have a fondness for the different, Charles."

"Is that what he is, different? What did you do to him?"

Sebastian brushes his hand over Charles' forehead. "I made him perfect, that's what I did. Well, almost. It's not complete yet. But it will be. I trust you'll know what to do."

"For heaven's sake, Seb, release me and stop this madness right now. I've seen the bodies you've left behind. You've lost it entirely."

"Yes, well." Sebastian cricks his neck, and something ugly and monstrous crawls thinly under his skin. "I had to make myself stronger too, of course. That, unfortunately, released some appetites that I'm forced to slate. I'm an earlier version," he tells Charles reassuringly, as if Charles has any inkling as to what he means. "Don't worry about your Erik."

"Oh," Charles says wearily. "What have you done."

"Only what was necessary." He cocks his head. "Oh, I see the cavalry has arrived. He's here to save you, Charles. Isn't it sweet."

Charles squeezes his eyes shut, willing it not to be true even as he can sense Erik drawing nearer, bounding towards them as fast as his four legs can carry him. No match for Sebastian, surely, who shifts swiftly into the biggest wolf that Charles has ever seen. Mottled brown fur and dark ropey muscles where the flesh is bare, he is twice Erik's size, possibly more. "Please don't," Charles says fervently. Begs, even though he is not a man given to begging. He can't recall the last time he ever did. "I will do whatever you want. Anything at all. My life, even. Please." Sebastian only drops onto his four feet, turning towards approaching steps, claws on hard tile.

He can't see most of it, even as he tries, even as he fights once more against his restraints. But he can hear: Erik, lighter of foot and faster, but not fast enough, as he squeals and he's thrown bodily against the wall, the sudden heat of blood in the air. Snapping teeth, too large to be anyone's but Seb's, too vicious, heavy pads rounding forward, then back. Waiting, because Erik is fool enough to stagger up and try again, snarling low and quiet, until the dull thud of their bodies hitting one another, and the snarling cut off in a sudden yelp -

"Stop," Charles pleads. "You're killing him. Please stop." There's another thud, this time of a body hitting the floor, limp and soft. Too much blood, and all of it Erik's, enough of it to spell death. Charles can almost taste it, rich under his tongue. "Please," he says again, as Sebastian reappears above him, half shifted and covered in red.

"It's done," he says. "And now I have to leave, because I believe your people are on their way to rescue you." His hand is once again on Charles' forehead, thumb brushing gently over skin. "You can save him, Charles. It's not too late."

"I will hunt you down," Charles tells him calmly, with perfect and utter clarity. "If it takes millenia, I will hunt you down and you will pay for this."

"I'm sure I will. But not today." He disappears from view, and Charles hears him shift, tracks his movements as far as he can until he can't hear him anymore. Another face replaces his, soon enough.

In the end, Charles cannot get to him fast enough. Armando is undoing the ties, wincing as the binds burn his wrist. "What are these made of."

Charles doesn't answer him, just runs to Erik and falls to his knees. There's too much blood, and Charles knows exactly how much a person can lose before there's no going back. But then Erik's not human, so maybe - he puts his hand to Erik's throat but the blood just keeps pouring out, taking with it everything in the world. "I don't know what to do," he says.

Armando's hand lands on his shoulder. "Feed him your blood."

"But he's not human, it won't heal him." Still he presses his wrist to his mouth, bites down. "Come on love." He tilts his wrist towards Erik's too pale lips. "Please drink."

Erik doesn't move as the blood pours down his throat, and even if he does drink there is no guarantee it will work, but Charles would give every drop he had if he could. His life, and that is apparently what it will take, as Erik gasps, opens his jaw, and bites down. Charles forces himself not to wrench his arm away, it's too late for that anyway. Instead he leans forward and presses a kiss to Erik's forehead, listens as his heart starts to beat stronger with every drop of Charles' blood he devours.

Erik snaps his eyes open. Charles pulls away and smiles down at him. "Charles," Erik says.

Armando grabs Charles' wrist, turns it over. "The wound is healing," and he doesn't sound surprised.

"I don't understand," Charles says.

"It was always your blood."

Armando releases him, and Charles falls to the floor softly. "Sweep the place," he says, when he finally gathers enough of his wits back. "Kill anything that's not kin. Who else is with you?"

"Emma," Armando responds, rising to his feet. "I believe she's already laying waste." His teeth flash briefly. "She didn't take kindly to you being kidnapped. We'll clean up here. You take him someplace safe."

"How did you find us in the first place?"

"Moira. She was tracking the pup."

He blinks at that, but Armando's already turning away, headed towards where the screaming is coming from. Charles gathers Erik up in his arms. He weighs nothing, less than, even, and doesn't stir, but his breathing is slow and his heart beats steadily. Charles breaks the nearest window out with his foot and jumps down to the ground beneath him, only glancing back when he's put some distance between them and the house. He only vaguely recognizes the place as one of the many abandoned mansions in the area, only visited on occasion by drunken teenagers seeking out privacy.

Erik groans, twitching slightly in discomfort. "We're going home," Charles says, and picks up speed.

When he reaches home he puts Erik in his bed and fetches a washcloth and a bowl of water to wipe as much blood off him as possible. It's all Erik's. He shouldn't be alive; Charles' blood shouldn't have worked. Erik stirs once more, and Charles leans forward, but he only settles back into sleep. He has to feed, he's lost too much blood, but instead he just sits at Erik's side and watches him as he sleeps, until the front door opens and then slams shut. When he ventures out, closing the door carefully behind him, Emma is standing in the hallway, arms crossed.

She's drenched in blood, her white outfit almost entirely red. "Don't worry, it's not mine," she says, at Charles' look.

"I didn't imagine it was."

Emma drifts closer to the door. "He in there?"

"Yes. He's resting."

"Is that what he's doing?" Emma says. She tightens her lips. "I don't know what it was I killed tonight, Charles. But they weren't vampire and they weren't human. They were just - there was something wrong with them. All of them."

"Seb's experiments, yes. We knew this."

"And Erik -"

"There's nothing wrong with Erik," Charles cuts in dangerously, even though of all people, Emma's the one person he can't truly intimidate. But he doesn't care, not anymore. "Did Armando tell you?"

"Yes. But it doesn't change anything. What is he? What did you just do?"

"I don't know," Charles says. "But it was better than the alternative. Would you have rather I let him die?"

"You act as if you don't already know the answer to that." She leans closer to him, and now the full force of all the blood on her hits him. The stench sends him reeling back. "Awful, isn't it." She tugs fitfully on the hem on her skirt. "Whatever they were, Charles. They weren't better than any of us. Or even the wolves. They were just wrong. And your little pet is part of that."

"I don't care," Charles says firmly.

"I know. But I just thought I'd remind you your responsibilities don't just lie with some pup you've known for less than six months. You still have family."

"I'm aware of that." He slumps against the door frame, suddenly exhausted. Emma puts out her hand to steady him.

"You need blood." She pauses for a moment. "He got away," she continues finally. "We're looking, but. He might come for him."

"House full of vampires, I don't think so. Surely he's not that foolish."

Emma growls, and throws her shoulders back. "I'm going to take a bath. Meanwhile, you might want to entertain our guest." She jerks her head towards the stairs, and Charles can hear Janice now, knocking at their door. "I think she wants her boy back," she says, and then she's gone, her bedroom door flying open and then shut behind her.

Charles heads downstairs, where Armando is in muted conversation with Janice. "How bad is he," Janice asks. Her voice is quiet, strained.

"He's asleep. I don't know. I tried. I'm not entirely sure what will happen. He's in my room. You can go up, I won't stop you. But he'll probably be safer here."

"He'll be safe with his own kind."

"And what kind is that, Janice. Do you know what he is?" She just shakes her head and storms up the stairs. Raven's leaning against a far wall, silently watching him. She offers Charles a watery smile as he passes by, and on impulse he leans over and kisses her on the temple.

"I'm sorry," she says.

"Are you all right?"

"Oh, me? Sure. Emma said I was to stay close to her at all times and not get myself killed. She was very insistent." She shudders slightly. "What were those things." Charles shrugs and opens his mouth to answer her, but then Janice comes back down the stairs.

"He's asking for you," she says.

"He's awake?"

"Opened his eyes when I walked in." As Charles passes her to head back upstairs, she adds quietly, "What did you do to him."

"I only tried to save his life."

Upstairs, Erik's still lying on the bed, curled up on his side. Charles pulls up a chair, but Erik scoots over and lifts the covers instead. "Janice is waiting downstairs," Charles says, but he slides into bed anyway, wrapping his arms automatically around Erik's waist. Erik's body is cool to the touch, far cooler than it usually is.

"I feel different," he says, barely above a breath.

"Do you remember anything?"

Erik shakes his head no. "Maybe," he starts haltingly. "Flashes. I feel different."

"Do you hurt anywhere? Is there anything wrong?"

"No," Erik says. He buries his face in the crook of Charles' neck and nuzzles at him. "It's better. It's good."

His muscles ripple as he shifts, and every part of him feels alien and strange and entirely unlike anything Charles has ever touched before. It's still only Erik though. Charles pulls back, smooths his hair away from his brow and kisses him on the forehead. "You'll be fine, I promise."

"Is he dead now?" Charles hesitates, and Erik stiffens.

"I'm sorry. We'll get him eventually."

"No, you won't." He turns away from Charles, face towards the ceiling, and his voice turns flat and still, imbued with an odd sort of calmness that Charles has never heard coming from Erik before. "No-one can. Not unless I -"

"Shh, Erik," Charles interrupts. "Don't think about it, not tonight. Rest, please." He tightens his hold around Erik's shoulder, and eventually Erik's breathing evens out. Charles extracts himself quietly, and heads back down once again.

Janice is sitting at the kitchen counter, a glass cradled in her hands. Charles sits down wearily across from her, and she pushes the glass towards him. He downs the whiskey gratefully and tries to pass her back the glass, but she waves him off and puts her head on her hand. "You can take him home if you want to," he tells Janice. "He's sleeping now, but he'll go with you."

"Seb's still out there." It's a statement, not a question.

"Yes."

"So what do we do now?"

"We wait."

"Yeah," Janice says. "I guess we do."

 

 _\- end -_

 


	10. Soundtrack

 

Vitamin String Quartet - The Unforgiven  
» [never see, won't see what might have been](http://whateverish.org/stuff/wolf/1. Vitamin String Quartet - Unforgiven.mp3)

Ellie Goulding - The Wolves (Act I and II)  
» [solace my game, it stars you](http://whateverish.org/stuff/wolf/2. Ellie Goulding - Wolves.mp3)

 

Javier Dunn - Animal  
» [i change shapes](http://whateverish.org/stuff/wolf/3. Javier Dunn - Animal.mp3)

 

Vitamin String Quartet - Closer  
» [i'll bleed you dry](http://whateverish.org/stuff/wolf/4. Vitamin String Quartet - Closer.mp3)

Peter Gabriel - My Body Is A Cage  
» [we take what we're given](http://whateverish.org/stuff/wolf/5. Peter Gabriel - My Body is a Cage.mp3)

 


End file.
